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PSYCHOLOGY   OF 
THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

A  Study  of  the  Transformations 
and   Symbolisms    of  the   Libido 

A  Contribution  to  the  History  of  the  Evolution  of  Thought 


BY 

Dr.  C.  G.  JUNG 

Of  the  University  of  Zurich 
AUTHORIZED  TRANSLATION,  WITH  INTRODUCTION,  BY 

BEATRICE  M.  HINKLE,   M.D. 

Of  the  Neurological  Department  of  Cornell  University  Medical 
School  and  of  the  New  York  Post  Graduate  Medical  School 


NEW  YORK 

DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 

1931 


Copyright,  1916,  by 

MOFFAT,  YARD  AND  COMPANY 

New  York 

All  rights  reserved 

Second  Printing,  September,  1916 
Reprinted,  November,  1917 


TRANSLATOR'S  NOTE 

That  humanity  is  seeking  a  new  message,  a  new  light 
upon  the  meaning  of  life,  and  something  tangible,  as  it 
were,  with  which  it  can  work  towards  a  larger  under- 
standing of  itself  and  its  relation  to  the  universe,  is  a 
fact  I  think  none  will  gainsay.  Therefore,  it  has 
seemed  to  me  particularly  timely  to  introduce  to  the  Eng- 
lish-speaking world  Dr.  Jung's  remarkable  book,  "  Wand- 
lungen  und  Symbole  der  Libido."  In  this  work  he  has 
plunged  boldly  into  the  treacherous  sea  of  mythology  and 
folklore,  the  productions  of  the  ancient  mind  and  that  of 
the  common  people,  and  turned  upon  this  vast  material 
the  same  scientific  and  painstaking  method  of  psychologic 
analysis  that  is  applied  to  the  modern  mind,  in  order  to 
reveal  the  common  bond  of  desire  and  longing  which 
unites  all  humanity,  and  thus  bridge  the  gaps  presumed 
to  exist  between  ancient  and  widely  separated  peoples  and 
those  of  our  modern  time.  The  discovery  of  this  under- 
current affecting  and  influencing  ancient  peoples  as  well 
as  modern  serves  as  a  foundation  or  platform  from  which 
he  proceeds  to  hold  aloft  a  new  ideal,  a  new  goal  of 
attainment  possible  of  achievement  and  which  can  be  in- 
tellectually satisfying,  as  well  as  emotionally  appealing: 
the  goal  of  moral  autonomy. 

This  book,  remarkable  for  its  erudition  and  the  tre- 
mendous labor  expended  upon  it,  as  well  as  for  the  new 


vi  TRANSLATOR'S  NOTE 

light  which  it  sheds  upon  human  life,  its  motives,  its 
needs  and  its  possibilities,  is  not  one  for  desultory  read- 
ing or  superficial  examination.  Such  an  approach  ^will 
prevent  the  reader  from  gaining  anything  of  its  real 
value;  but  for  those  who  can  bring  a  serious  interest  and 
willingness  to  give  a  careful  study  to  it  the  work  will 
prove  to  be  a  veritable  mine  capable  of  yielding  the 
greatest  riches. 

The  difficulties  in  translating  a  book  such  as  this  are 
almost  insuperable,  but  I  have  tried  faithfully  to  express 
Dr.  Jung's  thought,  keeping  as  close  to  the  original  text 
as  possible  and,  at  the  same  time,  rendering  the  difficult 
material  and  complicated  German  phrasing  as  simply  and 
clearly  as  the  subject-matter  would  allow.  In  all  this 
work  I  owe  much  to  Miss  Helen  I.  Brayton,  without 
whose  faithful  assistance  the  work  would  never  have  been 
completed.  I  wish  to  acknowledge  my  gratitude  to  Mr. 
Louis  Untermeyer,  whose  help  in  rendering  the  poetic 
quotations  into  English  verse  has  been  invaluable,  and  to 
express  as  well  my  gratitude  to  other  friends  who  have 
assisted  me  in  various  ways  from  time  to  time. 

B.  M.  H. 

New    York,    1915. 


AN  INTRODUCTION  TO  PSYCHOANALYSIS 
AND  ANALYTIC  PSYCHOLOGY 

When  Professor  Freud  of  Vienna  made  his  early- 
discoveries  in  the  realm  of  the  neuroses,  and  announced 
that  the  basis  and  origin  of  the  various  symptoms 
grouped  under  the  terms  hysteria  and  neuroses  lay  in 
unfulfilled  desires  and  wishes,  unexpressed  and  unknown 
to  the  patient  for  the  most  part,  and  concerned  chiefly 
with  the  sexual  instinct,  it  was  not  realized  what  far- 
reaching  influence  this  unpopular  and  bitterly  attacked 
theory  would  exert  on  the  understanding  of  human  life 
in  general. 

For  this  theory  has  so  widened  in  its  scope  that  its 
application  has  now  extended  beyond  a  particular  group 
of  pathologic  states.  It  has  in  fact  led  to  a  new  evalua- 
tion of  the  whole  conduct  of  human  life;  a  new  compre- 
hension has  developed  which  explains  those  things  which 
formerly  were  unexplained,  and  there  is  offered  an 
understanding  not  only  of  the  symptoms  of  a  neurosis 
and  the  phenomena  of  conduct  but  the  product  of  the 
mind  as  expressed  in  myths  and  religions. 

This  amazing  growth  has  proceeded  steadily  in  an 
ever-widening  fashion  despite  opposition  as  violent  as 
any  of  which  we  have  knowledge  in  the  past.  The  criti- 
cism originally  directed  towards  the  little  understood  and 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

much  disliked  sexual  conception  now  includes  the  further 
teachings  of  a  psychology  which  by  the  application  to  it 
of  such  damning  phrases  as  mystical,  metaphysical  and 
sacrilegious,  is  condemned  as  unscientific. 

To  add  to  the  general  confusion  and  misundertanding 
surrounding  this  new  school  of  thought  there  has  arisen 
a  division  amongst  the  leaders  themselves,  so  that  there 
now  exist  two  schools  led  respectively  by  Professor 
Sigmund  Freud  of  Vienna  and  Dr.  Carl  Jung  of  Zurich, 
referred  to  in  the  literature  as  the  Vienna  School  and 
the  Zurich  School. 

It  is  very  easy  to  understand  that  criticism  and  opposi- 
tion should  develop  against  a  psychology  so  difficult  of 
comprehension,  and  so  disturbing  to  the  ideas  which  have 
been  held  by  humanity  for  ages;  a  psychology  which 
furthermore  requires  a  special  technique  as  well  as  an 
observer  trained  to  recognize  and  appreciate  in  psycho- 
logic phenomena  a  verification  of  the  statement  that 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  chance,  and  that  every  act  and 
every  expression  has  its  own  meaning,  determined  by  the 
inner  feelings  and  wishes  of  the  individual. 

It  is  not  a  simple  matter  to  come  out  boldly  and  state 
that  every  individual  is  to  a  large  extent  the  determiner 
of  his  own  destiny,  for  only  by  poets  and  philosophers 
has  this  idea  been  put  forth — not  by  science;  and  it  is  a 
brave  act  to  make  this  statement  with  full  consciousness 
of  all  its  meaning,  and  to  stand  ready  to  prove  it  by 
scientific  reasoning  and  procedure. 

Developed  entirely  through  empirical  investigation  and 
through  an  analysis  of  individual  cases,   Freudian  psy- 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

chology  seems  particularly  to  belong  to  that  conception 
of  Max  Miiller's  that  "  An  empirical  acquaintance  with 
facts  rises  to  a  scientific  knowledge  of  facts  as  soon  as 
the  mind  discovers  beneath  the  multiplicity  of  single 
productions  the  unity  of  an  organic  system."  * 

Psychoanalysis  is  the  name  given  to  the  method  de- 
veloped for  reaching  down  Into  the  hidden  depths  of  the 
individual  to  bring  to  light  the  underlying  motives  and 
determinants  of  his  symptoms  and  attitudes,  and  to  reveal 
the  unconscious  tendencies  which  lie  behind  actions  and 
reactions  and  which  influence  development  and  determine 
the  relations  of  life  Itself.  The  result  of  digging  down 
Into  the  hidden  psyche  has  been  to  produce  a  mass  of 
material  from  below  the  threshold  of  consciousness,  so 
astonishing  and  disturbing  and  out  of  relation  with  the 
previously  held  values,  as  to  arouse  in  any  one  unfamiliar 
with  the  process  the  strongest  antagonism  and  criticism. 

Although  originally  studied  only  as  a  therapeutic 
method  for  the  sick,  it  was  soon  realized  through  an 
analysis  of  normal  people  how  slight  were  the  differences 
in  the  content  of  the  unconscious  of  the  sick  and  of  the 
normal.  The  differences  observed  were  seen  to  be  rather 
In  the  reactions  to  life  and  to  the  conflicts  produced  by 
contending  forces  in  the  individual. 

These  conflicts,  usually  not  fully  perceived  by  the  In- 
dividual, and  having  to  do  with  objectionable  desires  and 
wishes  that  are  not  In  keeping  with  the  conscious  Idea  of 
self,  produce  marked  effects  which  are  expressed  either 
in    certain    opinions,    prejudices,    attitudes    of    conduct, 

*  "  Science  of  Language,"  first  series,  p.  25. 


X  INTRODUCTION 

faulty  actions,  or  in  some  definite  pathologic  symptom. 
As  Dr.  Jung  says,  he  who  remains  healthy  has  to  struggle 
with  the  same  complexes  that  cause  the  neurotic  to  fall  ill. 

In  a  valuable  book  called  "  The  Neighbor,"  written 
by  the  late  Professor  N.  Shaler  of  Harvard  University, 
there  occurs  this  very  far-reaching  statement:  "It  is 
hardly  too  much  to  say  that  all  the  important  errors  of 
conduct,  all  the  burdens  of  men  or  of  societies  are  caused 
by  the  inadequacies  in  the  association  of  the  primal  animal 
emotions  with  those  mental  powers  which  have  been  so 
rapidly  developed  in  mankind." 

This  statement,  reached  by  a  process  of  reasoning 
and  a  method  of  thought  and  study  entirely  different 
from  psychoanalysis,  nevertheless  so  completely  ex- 
presses in  brief  form  the  very  basis  of  the  postulates 
developed  through  psychoanalysis  that  I  quote  it  here. 
Such  a  statement  made  in  the  course  of  a  general  exam- 
ination of  human  relations  does  not  arouse  opposition  nor 
seem  to  be  so  difficult  of  acceptance.  It  appears  to  be 
the  individual  application  of  these  conceptions  that  has 
roused  such  bitter  antagonism  and  violent  denuncia- 
tions. 

Rightly  understood  and  used,  psychoanalysis  may  be 
compared  to  surgery,  for  psychoanalysis  stands  in  the 
same  relation  to  the  personality  as  surgery  does  to  the 
body,  and  they  aim  at  parallel  results. 

It  is  well  recognized  that  in  the  last  analysis  nature  is 
the  real  physician,  the  healer  of  wounds;  but  prior  to  the 
development  of  our  modern  asepsis  and  surgical  technique 
the  healing  produced  by  nature  was  most  often  of  a  very 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

faulty  and  Imperfect  type — hideous  scars,  distorted  and 
crippled  limbs,  with  functions  impaired  or  incapacitated, 
resulted  from  the  wounds,  or  else  nature  was  unable  to 
cope  with  the  hurt  and  the  injured  one  succumbed. 

Science  has  been  steadily  working  for  centuries  with 
the  aim  of  understanding  nature  and  finding  means  to 
aid  and  co-operate  with  her  so  that  healing  could  take 
place  with  the  least  possible  loss  of  function  or  permanent 
injury  to  the  individual.  Marvelous  results  have  re- 
warded these  persistent  efforts,  as  the  brilliant  achieve- 
ments of  surgery  plainly  indicate. 

Meantime,  however,  little  thought  was  given  to  the 
possibility  of  any  scientific  method  being  available  to  help 
man  overcome  the  wounds  and  conflicts  taking  place  in 
his  soul,  hurts  which  retarded  his  development  and  prog- 
ress as  a  personality,  and  which  frequently  In  the  struggle 
resulted  In  physical  pains  and  symptoms  of  the  most 
varied  character.  That  was  left  solely  to  religion  and 
metaphysics.  Now,  however,  this  same  assistance  that 
surgery  has  given  to  the  physical  body,  psychoanalysis 
attempts  to  give  to  the  personality.  That  it  cannot 
always  succeed  is  as  much  to  be  expected,  and  more, 
than  that  surgery  does  not  always  succeed,  for  the 
analytic  work  requires  much  of  the  individual.  No 
real  result  can  be  attained  if  he  has  not  already 
developed  a  certain  quality  of  character  and  Intelli- 
gence which  makes  It  possible  for  him  to  submit 
himself  to  a  facing  of  his  naked  soul,  and  to  the  pain  and 
suffering  which  this  often  entails.  Here,  as  in  no  other 
relation  In  life,  an  absolute  truth  and  an  absolute  honesty 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

are  the  only  basis  of  action,  since  deception  of  any  kind 
deceives  no  one  but  the  individual  himself  and  acts  as  a 
boomerang,  defeating  his  own  aims. 

Such  deep  searching  and  penetrating  into  the  soul  is 
not  something  to  be  undertaken  lightly  nor  to  be  con- 
sidered a  trivial  or  simple  matter,  and  the  fact  is  that 
where  a  strong  compulsion  is  lacking,  such  as  sickness 
or  a  situation  too  difficult  to  meet,  much  courage  is 
required  to  undertake  it. 

In  order  to  understand  this  psychology  which  is  per- 
vading all  realms  of  thought  and  seems  destined  to  be  a 
new  psychological-philosophical  system  for  the  under- 
standing and  practical  advancement  of  human  life,  it  will 
be  necessary  to  go  somewhat  into  detail  regarding  its 
development  and  present  status.  For  in  this  new  direc- 
tion lies  its  greatest  value  and  its  greatest  danger. 

The  beginnings  of  this  work  were  first  published  in 
1895  ^^  ^  book  entitled  "  Studien  iiber  Hysteric,"  and 
contained  the  joint  investigations  into  hysteria  of  Dr. 
Breuer  of  Vienna  and  his  pupil  Dr.  Sigmund  Freud.  The 
results  of  their  investigations  seemed  to  show  that  the 
various  symptoms  grouped  under  the  title  of  hysteria 
were  the  result  of  emotionally  colored  reminiscences 
which,  all  unknown  to  the  conscious  waking  self,  were 
really  actively  expressing  themselves  through  the  surro- 
gate form  of  symptoms  and  that  these  experiences,  al- 
though forgotten  by  the  patient,  could  be  reproduced 
and  the  emotional  content  discharged. 

Hypnosis  was  the  means  used  to  enable  the  physician 
to  penetrate  deeply  into  the  forgotten  memories,  for  it 


INTRODUCTION  xiii 

was  found  through  hypnosis  that  these  lost  Incidents  and 
circumstances  were  not  really  lost  at  all  but  only  dropped 
from  consciousness,  and  were  capable  of  being  revived 
when  given  the  proper  stimuli.  The  astonishing  part 
about  it  was  that  with  the  revival  of  these  memories  and 
their  accompanying  painful  and  disturbing  emotions,  the 
symptoms  disappeared.  This  led  naturally  to  the  con- 
clusion that  these  symptoms  were  dependent  upon  some 
emotional  disturbance  or  psychic  trauma  which  had  been 
inadequately  expressed,  and  that  in  order  to  cure  the 
patient  one  merely  had  to  establish  the  connection  be- 
tween the  memory  and  the  emotions  which  properly 
belonged  to  it,  letting  the  emotion  work  Itself  out  through 
a  reproduction  of  the  forgotten  scene. 

With  further  investigation  Freud  found  that  hypnosis 
was  unnecessary  for  the  revival  of  the  forgotten  experi- 
ences, and  that  it  was  possible  to  obtain  the  lost  emotional 
material  In  the  conscious  and  normal  state.  For  this 
purpose  the  patient  was  encouraged  to  assume  a  passive, 
non-critical  attitude  and  simply  let  his  thoughts  flow, 
speaking  of  whatever  came  into  his  mind,  holding  nothing 
back.  During  this  free  and  easy  discussion  of  his  life 
and  conditions,  directed  by  the  law  of  association  of 
ideas,  reference  was  invariably  made  to  the  experiences 
or  thoughts  which  were  the  most  affective  and  disturbing 
elements.  It  was  seen  to  be  quite  Impossible  to  avoid 
this  indirect  revelation  because  of  the  strength  of  the 
emotions  surrounding  these  ideas  and  the  effect  of  the 
conscious  wish  to  repress  unpleasant  feelings.  This  im- 
portant group  of  ideas  or  impressions,  with  the  feelings 


xiv  INTRODUCTION 

and  emotions  clustered  around  them  which  are  betrayed 
through  this  process,  was  called  by  Jung  a  complex. 

However,  with  the  touching  of  the  complex  which 
always  contains  feelings  and  emotions  so  painful  or  un- 
pleasant as  to  be  unacceptable  to  consciousness,  and  which 
are  therefore  repressed  and  hidden,  great  difficulties  ap- 
peared, for  very  often  the  patient  came  to  a  sudden  stop 
and  could  apparently  recall  nothing  more.  Memory 
gaps  were  frequent,  relations  twisted,  etc.  Evidently 
some  force  banished  these  memories  so  that  the  person 
was  quite  honest  in  saying  that  he  could  remember  noth- 
ing or  that  there  was  nothing  to  tell.  This  kind  of  for- 
getfulness  was  called  repression,  and  is  the  normal 
mechanism  by  which  nature  protects  the  individual  from 
such  painful  feelings  as  are  caused  by  unpleasant  and  un- 
acceptable experiences  and  thoughts,  the  recognition  of 
his  egoistic  nature,  and  the  often  quite  unbearable  con- 
flict of  his  weaknesses  with  his  feelings  of  idealism. 

At  this  early  time  great  attention  was  given  towards 
developing  a  technique  which  would  render  more  easy 
the  reproduction  of  these  forgotten  memories,  for  with 
the  abandonment  of  hypnosis  it  was  seen  that  some  un- 
known active  force  was  at  work  which  not  only  banished 
painful  memories  and  feelings,  but  also  prevented  their 
return;  this  was  called  resistance.  This  resistance 
was  found  to  be  the  important  mechanism  which  inter- 
fered with  a  free  flow  of  thought  and  produced  the 
greatest  difficulty  in  the  further  conduct  of  the  analysis. 
It  appeared  under  various  guises  and  frequently  mani- 
fested itself  in  intellectual  objections  based  on  reasoning 


INTRODUCTION  xv 

ground,  in  criticism  directed  towards  the  analyst,  or  in 
criticism  of  the  method  itself,  and  finally,  often  in  a  com- 
plete blocking  of  expression,  so  that  until  the  resistance 
was  broken  nothing  more  could  be  produced. 

It  was  necessary  then  to  find  some  aid  by  which  these 
resistances  could  be  overcome  and  the  repressed  memories 
and  feelings  revived  and  set  free.  For  it  was  proven 
again  and  again  that  even  though  the  person  was  not  at 
all  aware  of  concealing  within  himself  some  emotionally 
disturbing  feeling  or  experience  with  which  his  symptoms 
were  associated,  yet  such  was  the  fact,  and  that  under 
proper  conditions  this  material  could  be  brought  into 
consciousness.  This  realm  where  these  unknown  but  dis- 
turbing emotions  were  hidden  was  called  the  "  Uncon- 
scious " — the  "  Unconscious  "  also  being  a  name  used 
arbitrarily  to  indicate  all  that  material  of  which  the  per- 
son is  not  aware  at  the  given  time — the  not-conscious. 

This  term  Is  used  very  loosely  in  Freudian  psychology 
and  Is  not  intended  to  provoke  any  academic  discussion 
but  to  conform  strictly  to  the  dictionary  classification  of 
a  "  negative  concept  which  can  neither  be  described  nor 
defined."  To  say  that  an  idea  or  feeling  is  unconscious 
merely  means  to  indicate  that  the  individual  is  unaware 
at  that  time  of  its  existence,  or  that  all  the  material  of 
which  he  is  unaware  at  a  given  time  is  unconscious. 

With  the  discovery  of  the  significance  in  relation  to 
hysteria  of  these  varied  experiences  and  forgotten  mem- 
ories which  always  led  into  the  erotic  realm  and  usually 
were  carried  far  back  into  early  childhood,  the  theory  of 
an  infantile  sexual  trauma  as  a  cause  of  this  neurosis  de- 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

veloped.  Contrary  to  the  usual  belief  that  children  have 
no  sexuality  and  that  only  at  puberty  does  it  suddenly 
arise,  it  was  definitely  shown  that  there  was  a  very  marked 
kind  of  sexuality  among  children  of  the  most  tender  years, 
entirely  instinctive  and  capable  of  producing  a  grave  effect 
on  the  entire  later  life. 

However,  further  investigations  carried  into  the  lives 
of  normal  people  disclosed  quite  as  many  psychic  and 
sexual  traumas  in  their  early  childhood  as  in  the  lives  of 
the  patients;  therefore,  the  conception  of  the  "infantile 
sexual  trauma  "  as  the  etiological  factor  was  abandoned 
in  favor  of  "  the  infantilism  of  sexuality  "  itself.  In 
other  words,  it  was  soon  realized  that  many  of  the  sexual 
traumas  which  were  placed  in  their  early  childhood  by 
these  patients,  did  not  really  exist  except  in  their  own 
phantasies  and  probably  were  produced  as  a  defence 
against  the  memories  of  their  own  childish  sexual  activ- 
ities. These  experiences  led  to  a  deep  investigation  into 
the  nature  of  the  child's  sexuality  and  developed  the 
ideas  which  Freud  incorporated  in  a  work  called  "  Three 
Contributions  to  the  Sexual  Theory."  He  found  so 
many  variations  and  manifestations  of  sexual  activity 
even  among  young  children  that  he  realized  that  this 
activity  was  the  normal,  although  entirely  unconscious, 
expression  of  the  child's  developing  life,  and  while  not 
comparable  to  the  adult  sexuality,  nevertheless  pro- 
duced a  very  definite  influence  and  effect  on  the  child's 
life. 

These  childish  expressions  of  this  instinct  he  called 
"  polymorphous  perverse,"  because  in  many  ways  they 


INTRODUCTION  xvii 

resembled  the  various  abnormalities  called  perversions 
when  found  among  adults  under  certain  conditions. 

In  the  light  of  these  additional  investigations  Freud 
was  led  to  change  his  formulation,  for  instead  of  the 
symptoms  of  the  neurotic  patient  being  due  to  definite 
sexual  experiences,  they  seemed  to  be  determined  by 
his  reactions  towards  his  own  sexual  constitution  and 
the  kind  of  repression  to  which  these  instincts  were 
subjected. 

Perhaps  one  of  the  greatest  sources  of  misunderstand- 
ing and  difficulty  in  this  whole  subject  lies  in  the  term 
sexuality,  for  Freud's  conception  of  this  is  entirely  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  the  popular  sense.  He  conceives 
sexuaHty  to  be  practically  synonymous  with  the  word 
love  and  to  include  under  this  term  all  those  tender 
feelings  and  emotions  which  have  had  their  origin  in  a 
primitive  erotic  source,  even  if  now  their  primary  aim  is 
entirely  lost  and  another  substituted  for  it.  It  must  also 
be  borne  in  mind  that  Freud  strictly  emphasizes  the 
psychic  side  of  sexuality  and  its  importance,  as  well  as 
the  somatic  expression. 

Therefore,  to  understand  Freud's  theories,  his  very 
broad  conception  of  the  term  sexual  must  never  be  for- 
gotten. 

Through  this  careful  investigation  of  the  psychic  life 
of  the  individual,  the  tremendous  influence  and  impor- 
tance of  phantasy-making  for  the  fate  was  definitely 
shown.  It  was  discovered  that  the  indulgence  in  day- 
dreams and  phantasies  was  practically  universal  not  only 
among  children  but  among  adults,  that  even  whole  lives 


xvm  INTRODUCTION 

were  being  lived  out  in  a  phantastic  world  created  by  the 
dreamer,  a  world  wherein  he  could  fulfil  all  those  wishes 
and  desires  which  were  found  to  be  too  difficult  or  im- 
possible to  satisfy  in  the  world  of  reality. 

Much  of  this  phantasy  thinking  was  seen  to  be  scarcely 
conscious,  but  arose  from  unrealized  wishes,  desires  and 
strivings  which  could  only  express  themselves  through 
veiled  symbols  in  the  form  of  phantastic  structures  not 
understood,  nor  fully  recognized.  Indeed,  it  is  perhaps 
one  of  the  most  common  human  experiences  to  find 
"  queer  thoughts,"  undesired  ideas  and  images,  forcing 
themselves  upon  one's  attention  to  such  an  extent  that 
the  will  has  to  be  employed  to  push  them  out  of  mind. 
It  is  not  unusual  to  discover  long-forgotten  impressions 
of  childhood  assuming  a  phantastic  shape  in  memory,  and 
dwelt  upon  as  though  they  were  still  of  importance. 

This  material  afforded  a  rich  field  for  the  searchers 
into  the  soul,  for  through  the  operation  of  the  law  of 
association  of  ideas  these  phantastic  products,  traced  back 
to  their  origin,  revealed  the  fact  that  instead  of  being 
meaningless  or  foolish,  they  were  produced  by  a  definite 
process,  and  arose  from  distinct  wishes  and  desires  which 
unconsciously  veiled  themselves  in  these  mysterious  forms 
and  pictures. 

It  Is  conceded  that  the  most  completely  unconscious 
product  of  an  individual  is  his  dream,  and  therefore  Pro- 
fessor Freud  turned  his  attention  from  phantasies  and 
day-dreams  to  the  Investigation  of  the  nightly  dreams  of 
his  patients  to  discover  whether  they  would  throw  light 
upon  the  painful  feelings  and  Ideas   repressed  out  of 


INTRODUCTION  xix 

consciousness,  and  therefore  inaccessible  to  direct  revela- 
tion. 

This  brilliant  idea  soon  led  to  a  rich  fruiting,  for  it 
became  evident  that  contrary  to  the  usual  conception  that 
the  dream  is  a  phantastic  and  absurd  jumble  of  hetero- 
geneous fragments,  having  no  real  relation  to  the  life  of 
the  individual,  it  is  full  of  meaning.  In  fact,  it  is  usually 
concerned  with  the  problem  of  life  most  pressing  at  the 
time,  which  expresses  itself  not  directly,  but  in  symbolic 
form  so  as  to  be  unrecognized.  In  this  way  the  individual 
gains  an  expression  and  fulfilment  of  his  unrealized  wish 
or  desire. 

This  discovery  of  the  symbolic  nature  of  the  dream 
and  the  phantasy  was  brought  about  entirely  through  the 
associative  method  and  developed  empirically  through 
investigations  of  the  dreams  of  many  people.  In  this 
manner  it  became  evident  that  certain  ideas  and  objects 
which  recurred  again  and  again  in  the  dreams  and  phan- 
tasies of  different  people  were  definitely  associated  with 
certain  unconscious  or  unrecognized  wishes  and  desires, 
and  were  repeatedly  used  by  the  mind  to  express  these 
meanings  where  a  direct  form  was  repressed  and  un- 
allowed. Thus  certain  dream  expressions  and  figures 
were  in  a  general  way  considered  to  be  rather  definite 
symbols  of  these  repressed  ideas  and  feelings  found  in 
the  unconscious.  Through  a  comparative  and  parallel 
study  it  soon  appeared  that  there  was  a  similiar  mechan- 
ism at  work  in  myths  and  fairy  tales  and  that  the  rela- 
tionship between  the  dreams  and  phantasies  of  an  individ- 
ual and  the  myths  and  folk  tales  of  a  people  was  so  close 


XX  INTRODUCTION 

that  Abraham  could  say  that  the  myth  is  a  fragment 
of  the  infantile  soul  life  of  the  race  and  the  dream  is 
the  myth  of  the  individual. 

Thus  through  relating  his  dreams  the  patient  himself 
furnished  the  most  important  means  of  gaining  access  to 
the  unconscious  and  disturbing  complexes  with  which  his 
symptoms  were  connected. 

Besides  the  dream  analysis  the  patient  furnished  other 
means  of  revelation  of  his  complexes — his  mannerisms 
and  unconscious  acts,  his  opening  remarks  to  his  physician, 
his  emotional  reactions  to  certain  ideas;  in  short  the  whole 
behavior  and  verbal  expressions  of  the  individual  reveal 
his  inner  nature  and  problems. 

Through  all  this  work  it  became  clear  that  in  the 
emotional  nature  lay  the  origin  not  only  of  the  various 
nervous  illnesses  themselves,  but  also  of  the  isolated 
symptoms  and  individual  idiosyncrasies  and  peculiarities 
which  are  the  part  of  all  humanity  and  that  the  patho- 
genic cause  of  the  disturbances  lies  not  in  the  ignorance 
of  individuals,  but  in  those  inner  resistances  which  are  the 
underlying  basis  of  this  ignorance. 

Therefore  the  aim  of  the  therapy  became  not  merely 
the  relief  of  the  ignorance  but  the  searching  out  and  com- 
bating of  these  resistances. 

It  becomes  evident  from  even  this  brief  description 
of  the  analytic  procedure  that  we  are  dealing  with  a  very 
complex  and  delicate  material,  and  with  a  technique  which 
needs  to  make  definite  use  of  all  influences  available  for 
the  help  of  the  patient.  It  has  long  been  recognized 
that  the  relation  established  between  physician  and  pa- 


INTRODUCTION  xxi 

tient  has  a  great  effect  upon  the  medical  assistance  which 
he  is  able  to  render — in  other  words,  if  a  confidence  and 
personal  regard  developed  in  the  patient  towards  the 
physician,  the  latter's  advice  was  just  so  much  more 
efficacious.  This  personal  feeling  has  been  frankly  recog- 
nized and  made  of  distinct  service  in  psychoanalytic  treat- 
ment under  the  name  of  transference.  It  is  through 
the  aid  of  this  definite  relationship  which  must  be 
established  In  the  one  being  analyzed  towards  the  analyst 
that  it  is  possible  to  deal  with  the  unconscious  and 
organized  resistances  which  so  easily  blind  the  individual 
and  render  the  acceptance  of  the  new  valuations  very 
difficult  to  the  raw  and  sensitive  soul. 

Freud's  emphasis  upon  the  role  of  the  sexual  instinct 
in  the  production  of  the  neurosis  and  also  In  its  determin- 
ing power  upon  the  personality  of  the  normal  individual 
does  not  imply  that  he  does  not  also  recognize  other 
determinants  at  the  root  of  human  conduct,  as  for 
instance,  the  instinct  for  preservation  of  life  and  the  ego 
principle  itself.  But  these  motives  are  not  so  violently 
forbidden  and  repressed  as  the  sexual  impulse,  and  there- 
fore, because  of  that  repressive  force  and  the  strength 
of  the  impulse  he  considers  this  primary  in  Its  influence 
upon  the  human  being. 

The  importance  of  this  Instinct  upon  human  life  is 
clearly  revealed  by  the  great  place  given  to  it  under  the 
name  of  love  In  art,  literature,  poetry,  romance  and  all 
beauty  from  the  beginning  of  recorded  time.  Viewed  in 
this  light  It  cannot  seem  extraordinary  that  a  difficulty 
or  disturbance  in  this  emotional  field  should  produce  such 


xxii  INTRODUCTION 

far-reaching  consequences  for  the  individual.  The  sexual 
impulse  is  often  compared  with  that  of  hunger,  and  this 
craving  and  need  lying  in  all  humanity  is  called  by  Freud 
libido. 

The  Oedipus  Problem 

With  further  investigations  into  the  nature  of  the 
repressed  complexes  a  very  astonishing  situation  was 
revealed.  The  parental  influence  on  children  is  some- 
thing so  well  recognized  and  understood  that  to  call  at- 
tention to  it  sounds  much  like  a  banality.  However,  here 
an  extraordinary  discovery  was  made,  for' in  tracing  out 
the  feelings  and  emotions  of  adults  it  became  evident 
that  this  influence  was  paramount  not  only  for  children 
but  for  adults  as  well;  that  the  entire  direction  of  lives 
was  largely  determined  quite  unconsciously  by  the  pa- 
rental associations,  and  that,  although  adults,  the  emo- 
tional side  of  their  nature  was  still  infantile  in  type  and 
demanded  unconsciously  the  infantile  or  childish  rela- 
tions. 

Freud  traces  out  the  commencement  of  the  infantile 
attachment  for  the  parents  in  this  wise. 

In  the  beginning  the  child  derives  its  first  satisfaction 
and  pleasure  from  the  mother  in  the  form  of  nutrition 
and  care  for  its  wants.  In  this  first  act  of  suckling  Freud 
sees  already  a  kind  of  sexual  pleasure,  for  he  apparently 
identifies  the  pleasure  principle  and  the  sexual  instinct 
and  considers  that  the  former  is  primarily  rooted  in  the 
latter.  At  this  early  time  commence  such  various  infan- 
tile actions  unconnected  with  nutrition  as  thumbsucking, 


INTRODUCTION  xxiii 

various  movements  of  the  body  as  rubbing,  boring, 
pulling  and  other  manifestations  of  a  definite  interest  in 
its  own  body,  a  delight  in  nakedness,  the  pleasure  ex- 
hibited in  inflicting  pain  on  some  object  and  its  opposite, 
the  pleasure  from  receiving  pain.  All  of  these  afford  the 
child  pleasure  and  satisfaction,  and  because  they  seem 
analogous  to  certain  perversions  in  adults  they  are  called 
by  Freud  the  "  polymorphous  perverse  sexuality "  of 
childhood.  The  character  of  these  instinctive  actions 
which  have  nothing  to  do  with  any  other  person,  and 
through  which  the  child  attains  pleasure  from  its  own 
body,  caused  Freud  to  term  this  phase  of  life  as  auto- 
erotic  after  Havelock  Ellis.  However,  with  the  growth 
of  the  child  there  is  a  parallel  development  of  the  psychic 
elements  of  its  sexual  nature  and  now  the  mother,  the 
original  object  of  its  love,  primarily  determined  by  its 
helplessness  and  need,  acquires  a  new  valuation.  The 
beginnings  of  the  need  for  a  love  object  to  satisfy  the 
craving  or  libido  of  the  child  are  early  in  evidence  and, 
following  along  sex  lines  in  general,  the  little  son  prefers 
the  mother  and  the  daughter  the  father  after  the  usual 
preference  of  the  parents. 

At  this  early  time  children  feel  deeply  the  enormous 
importance  of  their  parents  and  their  entire  world  is 
bounded  by  the  family  circle.  All  the  elements  of  the 
ego  which  the  child  possesses  have  now  become  manifest; 
love,  jealousy,  curiosity,  hate,  etc.,  and  those  instincts 
are  directed  in  the  greatest  degree  towards  the  objects 
of  their  libido,  namely  the  parents.  With  the  growing 
ego  of  the  child  there  is  a  development  of  strong  wishes 


xxlv  INTRODUCTION 

and  desires  demanding  satisfaction  which  can  only  be 
gratified  by  the  mother;  therefore  there  is  aroused  in 
the  small  son  the  feeling  of  jealousy  and  anger  towards 
the  father  in  whom  he  sees  a  rival  for  the  affection  of 
the  mother  and  whom  he  would  like  to  replace.  This 
desire  in  the  soul  of  the  child  Freud  calls  the  Oedipus 
complex  in  recognition  of  its  analogy  to  the  tragedy 
of  King  Oedipus  who  was  drawn  by  his  fate  to  kill  his 
father  and  win  his  mother  for  a  wife.  Freud  presents 
this  as  the  nuclear  complex  of  every  neurosis. 

At  the  basis  of  this  complex,  some  trace  of  which  can 
be  found  in  every  person,  Freud  sees  a  definite  incest  wish 
towards  the  mother  which  only  lacks  the  quality  of  con- 
sciousness. Because  of  moral  reactions  this  wish  is 
quickly  subjected  to  repression  through  the  operation  of 
the  "  incest  barrier,"  a  postulate  he  compares  to  the  incest 
taboo  found  among  inferior  peoples.  At  this  time  the 
child  is  beginning  to  develop  its  typical  sexual  curiosity 
expressed  by  the  question,  "Where  do  I  come  from?" 
The  interest  and  investigation  of  the  child  into  this  prob- 
lem, aided  by  observations  and  deductions  from  various 
actions  and  attitudes  of  the  parents,  who  have  no  idea 
of  the  watchfulness  of  the  child,  lead  him,  because  of  his 
imperfect  knowledge  and  immature  development,  into 
many  false  theories  and  ideas  of  birth.  These  infantile 
sexual  theories  are  held  by  Freud  to  be  determinative  in 
the  development  of  the  child's  character  and  also  for  the 
contents  of  the  unconscious  as  expressed  in  a  future 
neurosis. 

These  various  reactions  of  the  child  and  his  sexual  curi- 


INTRODUCTION  xxv 

osity  are  entirely  normal  and  unavoidable,  and  if  his 
development  proceeds  in  an  orderly  fashion  then,  at  the 
time  of  definite  object  choice  he  will  pass  smoothly  over 
from  the  limitations  of  the  family  attachment  out  into 
the  world  and  find  therein  his  independent  existence. 

However,  if  the  libido  remains  fixed  on  the  first  chosen 
object  so  that  the  growing  individual  is  unable  to  tear 
himself  loose  from  these  familial  ties,  then  the  incestuous 
bond  is  deepened  with  the  developing  sexual  instinct  and 
its  accompanying  need  of  a  love  object,  and  the  entire 
future  of  the  young  personality  endangered.  For  with 
the  development  of  the  incestuous  bond  the  natural  re- 
pressions deepen  because  the  moral  censor  cannot  allow 
these  disturbing  relations  to  become  clear  to  the  individ- 
ual. Therefore,  the  whole  matter  is  repressed  more 
deeply  into  the  unconscious,  and  even  a  feeling  of  posi- 
tive enmity  and  repulsion  towards  the  parents  is  often 
developed  in  order  to  conceal  and  over-compensate  for 
the  impossible  situation  actually  present. 

This  persistence  of  the  attachment  of  the  libido  to  the 
original  object,  and  the  inability  to  find  in  this  a  suitable 
satisfaction  for  the  adult  need,  interferes  with  the  normal 
development  of  the  psycho-sexual  character,  and  it  is  due 
to  this  that  the  adult  retains  that  "  infantilism  of  sexual- 
ity "  which  plays  so  great  a  role  in  determining  the  in- 
stability of  the  emotional  life  which  so  frequently  leads 
into  the  definite  neuroses. 

These  were  the  conclusions  reached  and  the  ground  on 
which  Freudian  psychology  rested,  regarding  the  etiology 


xxvi  INTRODUCTION 

of  the  neurosis,  and  the  tendencies  underlying  normal 
human  mechanisms,  when  Dr.  Carl  Jung,  the  most  promi- 
nent of  Freud's  disciples,  and  the  leader  of  the  Zurich 
school,  found  himself  no  longer  able  to  agree  with 
Freud's  findings  in  certain  particulars,  although  the 
phenomena  which  Freud  observed  and  the  technique  of 
psychoanalysis  developed  by  Freud  were  the  material  on 
which  Jung  worked  and  the  value  of  which  he  clearly 
emphasizes.  The  differences  which  have  developed  lay 
in  his  understanding  and  interpretation  of  the  phenomena 
observed. 

Beginning  with  the  conception  of  libido  itself  as  a 
term  used  to  connote  sexual  hunger  and  craving,  albeit 
the  meaning  of  the  word  sexual  was  extended  by  Freud 
to  embrace  a  much  wider  significance  than  common  usage 
has  assigned  it,  Jung  was  unable  to  confine  himself  to 
this  limitation.  He  conceived  this  longing,  this  urge  or 
push  of  life  as  something  extending  beyond  sexuality  even 
in  its  wider  sense.  He  saw  in  the  term  libido  a  concept 
of  unknown  nature,  comparable  to  Bergson's  elan  vital, 
a  hypothetical  energy  of  life,  which  occupies  itself  not 
only  in  sexuality  but  in  various  physiological  and  psycho- 
logical manifestations  such  as  growth,  development, 
hunger,  and  all  the  human  activities  and  interests.  This 
cosmic  energy  or  urge  manifested  in  the  human  being  he 
calls  libido  and  compares  it  with  the  energy  of  physics. 
Although  recognizing,  in  common  with  Freud  as  well  as 
with  many  others,  the  primal  instinct  of  reproduction  as 
the  basis  of  many  functions  and  present-day  activities  of 
mankind  no  longer  sexual  in  character  he  repudiates  the 


INTRODUCTION  xxvii 

idea  of  still  calling  them  sexual,  even  though  their  de- 
velopment was  a  growth  originally  out  of  the  sexual. 
Sexuality  and  its  various  manifestations  Jung  sees  as  most 
important  channels  occupied  by  libido,  but  not  the  ex- 
clusive ones  through  which  libido  flows. 

This  is  an  energic  concept  of  life;  and  from  this  view- 
point this  hypothetical  energy  of  life  or  libido  is  a  living 
power  used  instinctively  by  man  in  all  the  automatic 
processes  of  his  functioning;  such  very  processes  being 
but  different  manifestations  of  this  energy.  By  virtue 
of  its  quality  of  mobility  and  change  man,  through  his 
understanding  and  intelligence,  has  the  power  consciously 
to  direct  and  use  his  libido  in  definite  and  desired  ways. 

In  this  conception  of  Jung  Vv'ill  be  seen  an  analogy  to 
Bergson,  who  speaks  of  "  this  change,  this  movement  and 
becoming,  this  self-creation,  call  it  what  you  will,  as  the 
very  stuff  and  reality  of  our  being."  * 

In  developing  the  energic  conception  of  libido  and 
separating  it  from  Freud's  sexual  definition,  Jung  makes 
possible  the  explanation  of  interest  in  general,  and  pro- 
vides a  working  concept  by  which  not  only  the  specifically 
sexual,  but  the  g'eneral  activities  and  reactions  of  man  can 
be  understood. 

If  a  person  complains  of  no  longer  having  interest  in 
his  work  or  of  losing  interest  in  his  surroundings,  then  one 
understands  that  his  libido  is  withdrawn  from  this  object 
and  that  in  consequence  the  object  itself  seems  no  longer 
attractive,  whereas,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  object  itself 
is  exactly  the  same  as  formerly.     In  other  words,  it  is 

*  "  Creative  Evolution." 


xxviii  INTRODUCTION 

the  libido  that  we  bestow  upon  an  object  that  makes  It 
attractive  and  interesting. 

The  causes  for  the  withdrawal  of  libido  may  be  various 
and  are  usually  quite  different  from  those  that  the  persons 
offer  in  explanation.  It  is  the  task  of  psychoanalysis  to 
discover  the  real  reasons,  which  are  usually  hidden  and 
unknown.  On  the  other  hand,  when  an  Individual  ex- 
hibits an  exaggerated  interest  or  places  an  over-emphasis 
upon  an  idea  or  situation,  then  we  know  there  is  too  much 
libido  here  and  that  we  may  find  as  a  consequence  a  corre- 
sponding depletion  elsewhere. 

This  leads  directly  Into  the  second  point  of  difference 
between  Jung's  views  and  those  of  Freud.  This  Is  con- 
cerned with  those  practically  universal  childish  mani- 
festations of  sexuality  called  by  Freud  "  polymorphous 
perverse  "  because  of  their  similarity  to  those  abnormal- 
ities of  sexuality  which  occur  in  adults  and  are  called 
perversions. 

Jung  takes  exception  to  this  viewpoint.  He  sees  In  the 
various  manifestations  of  childhood  the  precursors  or 
forerunners  of  the  later  fully  developed  sexuality,  and 
Instead  of  considering  them  perverse  he  considers  them 
preliminary  expressions  of  sexual  coloring.  He  divides 
human  life  into  three  stages.  The  first  stage  up  to  about 
the  third  or  fourth  year,  generally  speaking,  he  calls  the 
presexual  stage,  for  there  he  sees  the  libido  or  life 
energy  occupied  chiefly  in  the  functions  of  nutrition  and 
growth,  and  he  draws  an  analogy  between  this  period  and 
that  of  the  caterpillar  stage  of  the  butterfly. 

The  second  stage  includes  the  years  from  this  time 


INTRODUCTION  xxix 

until  puberty,  and  this  he  speaks  of  as  the  prepubertal 
stage. 

The  third  period  is  that  from  puberty  onward  and  can 
be  considered  the  time  of  maturity. 

It  is  in  the  earhest  stage,  the  period  of  which  varies 
greatly  in  different  individuals,  that  are  fully  inaugurated 
those  various  manifestations  which  have  so  marked  a 
sexual  coloring  that  there  can  be  no  question  of  their 
relationship,  although  at  that  time  sexuaHty  in  the  adult 
meaning  of  the  word  does  not  exist. 

Jung  explains  the  polymorphism  of  these  phenomena 
as  arising  from  a  gradual  movement  of  the  libido  from 
exclusive  service  in  the  function  of  nutrition  into  new 
avenues  which  successively  open  up  with  the  development 
of  the  child  until  the  final  inauguration  of  the  sexual  func- 
tion proper  at  puberty.  Normally  these  childish  bad 
habits  are  gradually  relinquished  until  the  libido  is  en- 
tirely withdrawn  from  these  immature  phases  and  with 
the  ushering  in  of  puberty  for  the  first  time  "  appears  in 
the  form  of  an  undifferentiated  sexual  primitive  power, 
clearly  forcing  the  individual  towards  division,  budding, 
etc." 

However,  if  in  the  course  of  its  movement  from  the 
function  of  nutrition  to  the  sexual  function  the  libido  is 
arrested  or  retarded  at  any  phase,  then  a  fixation  may 
result,  creating  a  disturbance  in  the  harmony  of  the 
normal  development.  For,  although  the  libido  is  re- 
tarded and  remains  clinging  to  some  childish  manifesta- 
tion, time  goes  on  and  the  physical  growth  of  the  child 
does  not  stand  still.     Soon  a  great  contrast  is  created 


XXX  INTRODUCTION 

between  the  infantile  manifestations  of  the  emotional 
life  and  the  needs  of  the  more  adult  individual,  and  the 
foundation  is  thus  prepared  for  either  the  development 
of  a  definite  neurosis  or  else  for  those  weaknesses  of 
character  or  symptomatic  disturbances  which  are  not 
sufficiently  serious  to  be  called  a  neurosis. 

One  of  the  most  active  and  important  forms  of  childish 
libido  occupation  is  in  phantasy  making.  The  child's 
world  is  one  of  imagery  and  make-believe  where  he  can 
create  for  himself  that  satisfaction  and  enjoyment  which 
the  world  of  reality  so  often  denies.  As  the  child  grows 
and  real  demands  of  life  are  made  upon  him  it  becomes 
increasingly  necessary  that  his  libido  be  taken  away  from 
his  phantastic  world  and  used  for  the  required  adaptation 
to  reality  needed  by  his  age  and  condition,  until  finally 
for  the  adult  the  freedom  of  the  whole  libido  is  necessary 
to  meet  the  biological  and  cultural  demands  of  life. 

Instead  of  thus  employing  the  libido  in  the  real  world, 
however,  certain  people  never  relinquish  the  seeking  for 
satisfaction  in  the  shadowy  world  of  phantasy  and  even 
though  they  make  certain  attempts  at  adaptation  they 
are  halted  and  discouraged  by  every  difficulty  and  ob- 
stacle in  the  path  of  life  and  are  easily  pulled  back  into 
their  inner  psychic  world.  This  condition  is  called  a 
state  of  introversion.  It  is  concerned  with  the  past  and 
the  reminiscences  which  belong  thereto.  Situations  and 
experiences  which  should  have  been  completed  and  fin- 
ished long  ago  are  still  dwelt  upon  and  lived  with. 
Images  and  matters  which  were  once  important  but  which 
normally  have  no  significance  for  their  later  age  are  still 


INTRODUCTION  xxxi 

actively  Influencing  their  present  lives.  The  nature  and 
character  of  these  phantasy  products  are  legion,  and  are 
easily  recognized  in  the  emotional  attitudes  and  preten- 
sions, the  childish  Illusions  and  exaggerations,  the  preju- 
dices and  Inconsistencies  which  people  express  in  mani- 
fold forms.  The  actual  situation  is  inadequately  faced; 
small  matters  are  reacted  towards  In  an  exaggerated 
manner;  or  else  a  frivolous  attitude  Is  maintained  where 
real  seriousness  is  demanded.  In  other  words,  there  Is 
clearly  manifested  an  inadequate  psychic  adaptation  to- 
wards reality  which  is  quite  to  be  expected  from  the 
child,  but  which  Is  very  discordant  In  the  adult. 

The  most  important  of  these  past  influences  is  that  of 
the  parents.  Because  they  are  the  first  objects  of  the 
developing  childish  love,  and  afford  the  first  satisfaction 
and  pleasure  to  the  child,  they  become  the  models  for  all 
succeeding  efforts,  as  Freud  has  worked  out.  This  he 
called  the  nuclear  or  root  complex  because  this  Influence 
was  so  powerful  it  seemed  to  be  the  determining  factor 
In  all  later  difficulties  in  the  life  of  the  Individual. 

In  this  phase  of  the  problem  lies  the  third  great  dif- 
ference between  Jung's  Interpretation  of  the  observed 
phenomena  and  that  of  Freud. 

Jung  definitely  recognizes  that  there  are  many  neurotic 
persons  who  clearly  exhibited  In  their  childhood  the  same 
neurotic  tendencies  that  are  later  exaggerated.  Also  that 
an  almost  overwhelming  effect  on  the  destiny  of  these 
children  is  exercised  by  the  influence  of  the  parents,  the 
frequent  over-anxiety  or  tenderness,  the  lack  of  sympathy 
or  understanding,  in  other  words,  the  complexes  of  the 


xxxii  INTRODUCTION 

parent  reacting  upon  the  child  and  producing  in  him  love, 
admiration,  fear,  distrust,  hate,  revolt.  The  greater  the 
sensitiveness  and  impressionability  of  the  child,  the  more 
he  will  be  stamped  with  the  familial  environment,  and 
the  more  he  will  unconsciously  seek  to  find  again  in  the 
world  of  reality  the  model  of  his  own  small  world  with 
all  the  pleasures  and  satisfactions,  or  disappointments 
and  unhappinesses  with  which  it  was  filled. 

This  condition  to  be  sure  is  not  a  recognized  or  a 
conscious  one,  for  the  individual  may  think  himself  per- 
fectly free  from  this  past  influence  because  he  is  living  in 
the  real  world,  and  because  actually  there  is  a  great  dif- 
ference between  the  present  conditions  and  that  of  his 
childish  past.  He  sees  all  this,  intellectually,  but  there  is 
a  wide  gap  between  the  intellectual  grasp  of  a  situation 
and  the  emotional  development,  and  it  is  the  latter 
realm  wherein  lies  the  disharmony.  However,  although 
many  ideas  and  feelings  are  connected  with  the  parents, 
analysis  reveals  very  often  that  they  are  only  subjective 
and  that  in  reality  they  bear  httle  resemblance  to  the  actual 
past  situation.  Therefore,  Jung  speaks  no  longer  of  the 
real  father  and  mother  but  uses  the  term  imago  or  image 
to  represent  the  father  or  mother,  because  the  feelings 
and  phantasies  frequently  do  not  deal  with  the  real 
parents  but  with  the  distorted  and  subjective  image 
created  by  the  imagination  of  the  Individual. 

Following  this  distinction  Jung  sees  in  the  Oedipus 
complex  of  Freud  only  a  symbol  for  the  "  childish  de- 
sire towards  the  parents  and  for  the  conflict  which  this 
craving  evokes,"  and  cannot  accept  the  theory  that  in  this 


INTRODUCTION  xxxiii 

early  stage  of  childhood  the  mother  has  any  real  sexual 
significance  for  the  child. 

The  demands  of  the  child  upon  the  mother,  the 
jealousy  so  often  exhibited,  are  at  first  connected  with 
the  role  of  the  mother  as  protector,  caretaker  and  sup- 
plier of  nutritive  wants,  and  only  later,  with  the  germinat- 
ing eroticism,  does  the  child's  love  become  admixed  with 
the  developing  sexual  quality.  The  chief  love  objects  are 
still  the  parents  and  he  naturally  continues  to  seek  and 
to  find  in  them  satisfaction  for  all  his  desires.  In  this 
way  the  typical  conflict  is  developed  which  in  the  son  is 
directed  towards  the  father  and  in  the  daughter  towards 
the  mother.  This  jealousy  of  the  daughter  towards  the 
mother  is  called  the  Electra  complex  from  the  myth  of 
Electra  who  took  revenge  on  her  mother  for  the  murder 
of  the  husband  because  she  was  in  this  way  deprived  of 
her  father. 

Normally  as  puberty  is  attained  the  child  gradually 
becomes  more  or  less  freed  from  his  parents,  and  upon 
the  degree  in  which  this  is  accomplished  depends  his 
health  and  future  well-being. 

This  demand  of  nature  upon  the  young  individual  to 
free  himself  from  the  bonds  of  his  childish  dependency 
and  to  find  in  the  world  of  reality  his  independent  exist- 
ence is  so  imperious  and  dominating  that  it  frequently 
produces  in  the  child  the  greatest  struggles  and  severest 
conflicts,  the  period  being  characterized  symbolically  as  a 
self-sacrifice  by  Jung. 

It  frequently  happens  that  the  young  person  is  so 
closely  bound  in  the  family  relations  that  it  is  only  with 


xxxiv  INTRODUCTION 

the  greatest  difficulty  that  he  can  attain  any  measure  of 
freedom  and  then  only  very  imperfectly,  so  that  the  libido 
sexualis  can  only  express  itself  in  certain  feelings  and 
phantasies  which  clearly  reveal  the  existence  of  the  com- 
plex until  then  entirely  hidden  and  unrealized.  Now 
commences  the  secondary  struggle  against  the  unfilial  and 
immoral  feelings  with  a  consequent  development  of 
intense  resistances  expressing  themselves  in  irritation, 
anger,  revolt  and  antagonism  against  the  parents,  or  else 
in  an  especially  tender,  submissive  and  yielding  attitude 
which  over-compensates  for  the  rebellion  and  reaction 
held  within. 

This  struggle  and  conflict  gives  rise  to  the  unconscious 
phantasy  of  self-sacrifice  which  really  means  the  sacri- 
ficing of  the  childish  tendencies  and  love  type  in  order  to 
free  libido;  for  his  nature  demands  that  he  attain  the 
capacity  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  own  personal 
fulfilment,  the  satisfaction  of  which  belongs  to  the  de- 
veloped man  and  woman. 

This  conception  has  been  worked  out  in  detail  by 
Jung  in  the  book  which  is  herein  presented  to  English 
readers. 

We  now  come  to  the  most  important  of  Jung's  con- 
ceptions in  that  it  bears  practically  upon  the  treatment 
of  certain  types  of  the  neuroses  and  stands  theoretically ! 
in  direct  opposition  to  Freud's  hypothesis.  While  recog- 
nizing fully  the  influence  of  the  parents  and  of  the  sexual 
constitution  of  the  child,  Jung  refuses  to  see  in  this  in- 
fantile past  the  real  cause  for  the  later  development  of 
the  illness.     He  definitely  places  the  cause  of  the  patho- 


INTRODUCTION  xxxv 

genie  conflict  in  the  present  moment  and  considers  that  in 
seeking  for  the  cause  in  the  distant  past  one  is  only  fol- 
lowing the  desire  of  the  patient,  which  is  to  withdraw 
himself  as  much  as  possible  from  the  present  important 
period. 

The  conflict  is  produced  by  some  important  task  or 
duty  w^hich  is  essential  biologically  and  practically  for  the 
fullilment  of  the  ego  of  the  individual,  but  before  which 
an  obstacle  arises  from  which  he  shrinks,  and  thus  halted 
cannot  go  on.  With  this  interference  in  the  path  of 
progression  libido  is  stored  up  and  a  regression  takes 
place  whereby  there  occurs  a  reanimation  of  past  ways 
of  libido  occupation  which  were  entirely  normal  to  the 
child,  but  which  for  the  adult  are  no  longer  of  value. 
These  regressive  infantile  desires  and  phantasies  now 
alive  and  striving  for  satisfaction  are  converted  into 
symptoms,  and  in  these  surrogate  forms  obtain  a  certain 
gratification,  thus  creating  the  external  manifestations  of 
the  neurosis.  Therefore  Jung  does  not  ask  from  what 
psychic  experience  or  point  of  fixation  in  childhood  the 
patient  is  suffering,  but  what  is  the  present  duty  or  task 
he  is  avoiding,  or  what  obstacle  in  his  life's  path  he  is 
unable  to  overcome?  What  is  the  cause  of  his  regression 
to  past  psychic  experiences? 

Following  this  theory  Jung  expresses  the  view  that  the 
elaborate  phantasies  and  dreams  produced  by  these  pa- 
tients arc  really  forms  of  compensation  or  artificial  sub- 
stitutes for  the  unfulfilled  adaptation  to  reality.  The 
sexual  content  of  these  phantasies  and  dreams  is  only 
apparently  and  not  actually  expressive  of  a  real  sexual 


xxxvi  INTRODUCTION 

desire  or  incest  wish,  but  is  a  regressive  employment  of 
sexual  forms  to  symbolically  express  a  present-day  need 
when  the  attainment  of  the  present  ego  demand  seems 
too  difficult  or  impossible,  and  no  adaptation  is  made  to 
what  is  possible  for  the  individual's  capability.* 

With  this  statement  Jung  throws  a  new  light  on  the 
work  of  analytic  psychology  and  on  the  conception  of 
the  neurotic  symptoms,  and  renders  possible  of  under- 
standing the  many  apparent  incongruities  and  conflicting 
observations  which  have  been  so  disturbing  to  the  critics. 

It  now  becomes  proper  to  ask  what  has  been  estab- 
lished by  all  this  mass  of  investigation  into  the  soul,  and 
what  is  its  value  not  only  as  a  therapeutic  measure  for 
the  neurotic  sufferer,  but  also  for  the  normal  human 
being? 

First  and  perhaps  most  important  is  the  recognition  of 
a  definite  psychological  determinism.  Instead  of  human 
life  being  filled  with  foolish,  meaningless  or  purposeless 
actions,  errors  and  thoughts,  it  can  be  demonstrated  that 
no  expression  or  manifestation  of  the  psyche,  however 
trifling  or  inconsistent  in  appearance,  is  really  lawless  or 
unmotivated.  Only  a  possession  of  the  technique  is  neces- 
sary in  order  to  reveal,  to  any  one  desirous  of  knowing, 
the  existence  of  the  unconscious  determinants  of  his  man- 
nerisms, trivial  expressions,  acts  and  behavior,  their 
purpose  and  significance. 

*  For  a  more  complete  presentation  of  Jung's  views  consult  his 
"  Theory  of  Psychoanalysis  "  in  the  Nervous  and  Mental  Disease  Mono- 
graph Series,  No.  19. 


INTRODUCTION  xxxvii 

Thts  leads  into  the  second  fundamental  conception, 
which  is  perhaps  even  less  considered  than  the  foregoing, 
and  that  is  the  relative  value  of  the  conscious  mind  and 
thought.  It  is  the  general  attitude  of  people  to  judge 
themselves  by  their  surface  motives,  to  satisfy  themselves 
by  saying  or  thinking  "  this  is  what  I  want  to  do  or  say  " 
or  "  I  intended  to  do  thus  and  so,"  but  somehow  what 
one  thought,  one  intended  to  say  or  expected  to  do  is  very 
often  the  contrary  of  what  actually  is  said  or  done. 
Every  one  has  had  these  experiences  when  the  gap  be- 
tween the  conscious  thought  and  action  was  gross  enough 
to  be  observed.  It  is  also  a  well  known  experience  to 
consciously  desire  something  very  much  and  when  it  is 
obtained  to  discover  that  this  in  no  wise  satisfied  or 
lessened  the  desire,  which  was  then  transferred  to  some 
other  object.  Thus  one  became  cognizant  of  the  fact 
that  the  feeling  and  idea  presented  by  consciousness  as 
the  desire  was  an  error.  What  is  the  difficulty  in  these 
conditions?  Evidently  some  other  directing  force  than 
that  of  which  we  are  aware  is  at  work. 

Dr.  G.  Stanley  Hall  uses  a  very  striking  symbol  when 
he  compares  the  mind  to  an  iceberg  floating  in  the  ocean 
with  one-eighth  visible  above  the  water  and  seven-eighths 
below — the  one-eighth  above  being  that  part  called  con- 
scious and  the  seven-eighths  below  that  which  we  call  the 
unconscious.  The  influence  and  controlling  power  of  the 
unconscious  desires  over  our  thoughts  and  acts  are  in  this 
relative  proportion.  Faint  glimmers  of  other  motives 
and  interests  than  those  we  accept  or  which  we  believe, 
often  flit  into  consciousness.    These  indications,  if  studied 


xxxviii  INTRODUCTION 

or  valued  accurately,  would  lead  to  the  realization  that 
consciousness  is  but  a  single  stage  and  but  one  form  of 
expression  of  mind.  Therefore  its  dictum  is  but  one, 
often  untrustworthy,  approach  to  the  great  question  as 
to  what  is  man's  actual  psychic  accomplishment,  and  as 
to  what  in  particular  is  the  actual  soul  development  of 
the  individual. 

A  further  contribution  of  equal  importance  has  been 
the  empiric  development  of  a  dynamic  theory  of  life;  the 
conception  that  life  is  in  a  state  of  flux — movement — lead- 
ing either  to  construction  or  destruction.  Through  the 
development  man  has  reached  he  has  attained  the  power 
by  means  of  his  intelligence  and  understanding  of  defi- 
nitely directing  to  a  certain  extent  this  life  energy  or 
libido  Into  avenues  which  serve  his  interest  and  bring  a 
real  satisfaction  for  the  present  day. 

When  man  through  ignorance  and  certain  inherent 
tendencies  fails  to  recognize  his  needs  or  his  power  to 
fulfil  them,  or  to  adapt  himself  to  the  conditions  of  reality 
of  the  present  time,  there  is  then  produced  that  reanima- 
tion  of  infantile  paths  by  which  an  attempt  is  made  to 
gain  fulfilment  or  satisfaction  through  the  production  of 
symptoms  or  attitudes. 

The  acceptance  of  these  statements  demands  the  recog- 
nition of  the  existence  of  an  infantile  sexuality  and  the 
large  part  played  by  it  in  the  later  life  of  the  individual. 
Because  of  the  power  and  imperious  influence  exerted  by 
the  parents  upon  the  child,  and  because  of  the  unconscious 
attachment  of  his  libido  to  the  original  object,  the  mother, 
and   the   perseverance   of   this    first   love   model   in   tht 


INTRODUCTION  xxxix 

psyche,  he  finds  it  very  difficult,  on  reaching  the  stage 
of  adult  development  and  the  time  for  seeking  a  love 
object  outside  of  the  family,  to  gain  a  satisfactory  model. 

It  is  exceedingly  important  for  parents  and  teachers 
to  recognize  the  requirements  of  nature,  which,  beginning 
with  puberty,  imperiously  demand  of  the  young  indi- 
vidual a  separation  of  himself  from  the  parent  stem  and 
the  development  of  an  independent  existence.  In  our 
complex  modern  civilization  this  demand  of  nature  is 
difficult  enough  of  achievement  for  the  child  who  has  the 
heartiest  and  most  intelligent  co-operation  of  his  parents 
and  environment — but  for  the  one  who  has  not  only  to 
contend  with  his  own  inner  struggle  for  his  freedom 
but  has  in  addition  the  resistance  of  his  parents  who 
would  hold  him  in  his  childhood  at  any  cost,  because  they 
cannot  endure  the  thought  of  his  separation  from  them, 
the  task  becomes  one  of  the  greatest  magnitude.  It  is 
during  this  period  when  the  struggle  between  the  childish 
inertia  and  nature's  urge  becomes  so  keen,  that  there  occur 
the  striking  manifestations  of  jealousy,  criticism,  irritabil- 
ity all  usually  directed  against  the  parents,  of  defiance 
of  parental  authority,  of  runaways  and  various  other 
psychic  and  nervous  disorders  known  to  all. 

This  struggle,  which  is  the  first  great  task  of  mankind 
and  the  one  which  requires  the  greatest  effort,  is  that 
which  is  expressed  by  Jung  as  the  self-sacrifice  motive — 
the  sacrifice  of  the  childish  feelings  and  demands,  and  of 
the  irresponsibility  of  this  period,  and  the  assumption  of 
the  duties  and  tasks  of  an  individual  existence. 

It  is  this  great  theme   which  Jung  sees  as  the   real 


xl  INTRODUCTION 

motive  lying  hidden  in  the  myths  and  religions  of  man 
from  the  beginning,  as  well  as  in  the  literature  and 
artistic  creations  of  both  ancient  and  modern  time, 
and  which  he  works  out  with  the  greatest  wealth  of 
detail  and  painstaking  effort  in  the  book  herewith  pre- 
sented. 

This  necessitates  a  recognition  and  revaluation  of  the 
enormous  importance  and  influence  of  the  ego  and  the 
sexual  instinct  upon  the  thought  and  reaction  of  man, 
and  also  predicates  a  displacement  of  the  psychological 
point  of  gravity  from  the  will  and  intellect  to  the  realm 
of  the  emotions  and  feelings.  The  desired  end  is  a 
synthesis  of  these  two  paths  or  the  use  of  the  intellect 
constructively  in  the  service  of  the  emotions  in  order  to 
gain  for  the  best  interest  of  the  individual  some  sort  of 
co-operative  reaction  between  the  two. 

No  one  dealing  with  analytic  psychology  can  fail  to 
be  struck  by  the  tremendous  and  unnecessary  burdens 
which  man  has  placed  upon  himself,  and  how  greatly 
he  has  increased  the  difficulties  of  adaptation  by  his  rigid 
intellectual  views  and  moral  formulas,  and  by  his  inability 
to  admit  to  himself  that  he  is  actually  just  a  human  being 
imperfect,  and  containing  within  himself  all  manner  of 
tendencies,  good  and  bad,  all  striving  for  some  satisfac- 
tory goal.  Further,  that  the  refusal  to  see  himself  in 
this  light  instead  of  as  an  ideal  person  in  no  way  alters 
the  actual  condition,  and  that  in  fact,  through  the  cheap 
pretense  of  being  able  only  to  consider  himself  as  a  very 
virtuous  person,  or  as  shocked  and  hurt  when  observing 
the  "  sins  ''  of  others,  he  actually  is  prevented  from  de- 


INTRODUCTION  xli 

veloping  his  own  character  and  bringing  his  own  capac- 
ities to  their  fullest  expressions. 

There  is  frequently  expressed  among  people  the  idea 
of  how  fortunate  it  is  that  we  cannot  see  each  other's 
thoughts,  and  how  disturbing  it  would  be  if  our  real 
feelings  could  be  read.  But  what  is  so  shameful  in  these 
secrets  of  the  soul?  They  are  in  reality  our  own  egoistic 
desires  all  striving,  longing,  wishing  for  satisfaction,  for 
happiness;  those  desires  which  instinctively  crave  their 
own  gratification  but  which  can  only  be  really  fulfilled  by 
adapting  them  to  the  real  world  and  to  the  social  group. 

Why  is  it  that  it  is  so  painful  for  man  to  admit  that 
the  prime  influence  in  all  human  endeavor  is  found  in  the 
ego  itself,  in  its  desires,  wishes,  needs  and  satisfactions, 
in  short,  in  its  need  for  self-expression  and  self-perpetua- 
tion, the  evolutionary  impetus  in  life? 

The  basis  for  the  unpleasantness  of  this  idea  may  per- 
haps be  found  in  an  inner  resistance  in  nature  itself  which 
forces  man  to  include  others  in  his  scheme,  lest  his  own 
greedy  desires  should  serve  to  destroy  him.  But  even 
with  this  inner  demand  and  all  the  ethical  and  moral 
teachings  of  centuries  it  is  everywhere  evident  that  man 
has  only  very  imperfectly  learned  that  it  is  to  his  own 
interest  to  consider  his  neighbor  and  that  it  is  impossible 
for  him  to  ignore  the  needs  of  the  body  social  of  which 
he  is  a  part.  Externally,  the  recognition  of  the  strength 
of  the  ego  impulse  is  objectionable  because  of  the  ideal 
conception  that  self-striving  and  so-called  selfish  seeking 
are  unworthy,  ignoble  and  incompatible  with  a  desirable 
character  and  must  be  ignored  at  all  cost. 


xlii  INTRODUCTION 

The  futility  of  this  attitude  is  to  be  clearly  seen  in  the 
failure  after  all  these  centuries  to  even  approximate  it, 
as  evidenced  in  our  human  relations  and  institutions,  and 
is  quite  as  ineffectual  in  this  realm  as  in  that  of  sexuality 
where  the  effort  to  overcome  this  imperious  domination 
has  been  attempted  by  lowering  the  instinct,  and  seeing 
in  it  something  vile  or  unclean,  something  unspeakable 
and  unholy.  Instead  of  destroying  the  power  of  sexuality 
this  struggle  has  only  warped  and  distorted,  injured  and 
mutilated  the  expression;  for  not  without  destruction  of 
the  Individual  can  these  fundamental  Instincts  be  de- 
stroyed. Life  itself  has  needs  and  imperiously  demands 
expression  through  the  forms  created.  All  nature 
answers  to  this  freely  and  simply  except  man.  His  fail- 
ure to  recognize  himself  as  an  instrument  through  which 
the  life  energy  is  coursing  and  the  demands  of  which 
must  be  obeyed,  is  the  cause  of  his  misery.  Despite  his 
possession  of  intellect  and  self-consciousness,  he  cannot 
without  disaster  to  himself  refuse  the  tasks  of  life  and 
the  fulfilment  of  his  own  needs.  Man's  great  task  is 
the  adaptation  of  himself  to  reality  and  the  recognition 
of  himself  as  an  instrument  for  the  expression  of  life 
according  to  his  individual  possibilities. 

It  is  in  his  privilege  as  a  self-creator  that  his  highest 
purpose  is  found. 

The  value  of  self-consciousness  lies  in  the  fact  that 
man  is  enabled  to  reflect  upon  himself  and  learn  to  under- 
stand the  true  origin  and  significance  of  his  actions  and 
opinions,  that  he  may  adequately  value  the  real  level  of 
his  development  and  avoid  being  self-deceived  and  there- 


INTRODUCTION  xliii 

fore  inhibited  from  finding  his  biological  adaptation.  He 
need  no  longer  be  unconscious  of  the  motives  underlying 
his  actions  or  hide  himself  behind  a  changed  exterior, 
in  other  words,  be  merely  a  series  of  reactions  to  stimuli 
as  the  mechanists  have  it,  but  he  may  to  a  certain  extent 
become  a  self-creating  and  self-determining  being. 

Indeed,  there  seems  to  be  an  impulse  towards  adapta- 
tion quite  as  Bergson  sees  it,  and  it  would  seem  to  be  a 
task  of  the  highest  order  to  use  intelligence  to  assist  one's 
self  to  work  with  this  impulse. 

Through  the  investigation  of  these  different  avenues 

leading  into  the  hidden  depths  of  the  human  being  and 

:  through  the  revelation  of  the  motives  and  influences  at 

I  work  there,   although   astonishing  to   the   uninitiated,   a 

very  clear  and  definite  conception  of  the  actual  human 

relationship — brotherhood — of  all  mankind  is  obtained. 

il  It  is  this  recognition  of  these  common  factors  basically 

inherent  in  humanity  from  the  beginning  and  still  active, 

I  which  is  at  once  both  the  most  hopeful   and  the  most 

i 

:  feared  and  disliked  part  of  psychoanalysis. 

!       It  is  disliked  by  those   individuals  who   have  prided 

I  themselves  upon  their  superiority  and  the  distinction  be- 

itween  their  reactions  and  motives  and  those  of  ordinary 
mankind.  In  other  words,  they  attempt  to  become  per- 
sonalities through  elevating  themselves  and  lowering 
others,  and  it  is  a  distinct  blow  to  discover  that  beneath 
these  pretensions  lie  the  very  ordinary  elements  shared 
in  common  by  all.  On  the  other  hand,  to  those  who  have 
been  able  to  recognize  their  own  weaknesses  and  have 


xliv  INTRODUCTION 

suffered  in  the  privacy  of  their  own  souls,  the  knowledge 
that  these  things  have  not  set  them  apart  from  others, 
but  that  they  are  the  common  property  of  all  and  that 
no  one  can  point  the  finger  of  scorn  at  his  fellow,  is  one 
of  the  greatest  experiences  of  life  and  is  productive 
of  the  greatest  relief. 

It  Is  feared  by  many  who  realize  that  in  these  painfully 
acquired  repressions  and  symptoms  lie  their  safety  and 
their  protection  from  directly  facing  and  dealing  with 
tendencies  and  characteristics  with  which  they  feel  unable 
to  cope.  The  repression  and  the  accompanying  symptoms 
indicate  a  difficulty  and  a  struggle,  and  in  this  way  are 
a  sort  of  compromise  or  substitute  formation  which 
permit,  although  only  in  a  wasteful  and  futile  manner, 
the  activity  of  the  repressed  tendencies.  Nevertheless, 
to  analyze  the  Individual  back  to  his  original  tendencies 
and  reveal  to  him  the  meaning  of  these  substitute  forma- 
tions would  be  a  useless  procedure  in  which  truly  "  the 
last  state  of  that  man  would  be  worse  than  the  first " 
if  the  work  ceased  there.  The  aim  is  not  to  destroy 
those  barriers  upon  which  civilized  man  has  so  painfully 
climbed  and  to  reduce  him  to  his  primitive  state,  but, 
where  these  have  failed  or  Imperfectly  succeeded,  to  help 
him  to  attain  his  greatest  possibilities  with  less  expendi- 
ture of  energy,  by  less  wasteful  methods  than  nature 
provides.  In  this  achievement  lies  the  hopeful  and  valu- 
able side  of  this  method — the  development  of  the  syn- 
thesis. It  is  hopeful  because  now  a  way  is  opened  to 
deal  with  these  primitive  tendencies  constructively,  and 
render   their   effects   not   only   harmless  but  useful,   by 


INTRODUCTION  xlv 

utilizing  them  in  higher  aims,  socially  and  individually 
valuable  and  satisfactory. 

This  is  what  has  occurred  normally  in  those  individuals 
who  seem  capable  and  constructive  personalities;  in  those 
creative  minds  that  give  so  much  to  the  race.  They  have 
converted  certain  psychological  tendencies  which  could 
have  produced  useless  symptoms  or  destructive  actions 
into  valuable  productions.  Indeed  it  is  not  uncommon 
for  strong,  capable  persons  to  state  themselves  that  they 
knew  they  could  have  been  equally  capable  of  a  wasteful 
or  destructive  life.  This  utilization  of  the  energy  or 
libido  freed  by  removing  the  repressions  and  the  lifting 
of  infantile  tendencies  and  desires  into  higher  purposes 
and  directions  suitable  for  the  individual  at  his  present 
status  is  called  sublimation. 

It  must  not  be  understood  by  this  discussion  that 
geniuses  or  wonderful  personalities  can  be  created 
through  analysis,  for  this  is  not  the  aim  of  the  procedure. 
Its  purpose  is  to  remove  the  inhibitions  and  restrictions 
which  interfere  with  the  full  development  of  the  per- 
sonality, to  help  individuals  attain  to  that  level  where 
they  really  belong,  and  to  prepare  people  to  better  under- 
stand and  meet  life  whether  they  are  neurotic  sufferers 
or  so-called  "  normal  people  "  with  the  difficulties  and 
peculiarities  which  belong  to  all. 

This  reasoning  and  method  of  procedure  is  only  new 
when  the  application  is  made  to  the  human  being.  In 
all  improvements  of  plants  and  animals  these  general 
principles  have  been  recognized  and  their  teachings  con- 
structively utilized. 


xlvi  INTRODUCTION 

Luther  Burbank,  that  plant  wizard  whose  work  is 
known  to  all  the  world,  says,  "  A  knowledge  of  the  battle 
of  the  tendencies  within  a  plant  is  the  very  basis  of  all 
plant  improvement,"  and  "  it  is  not  that  the  work  of  plant 
improvement  brings  with  it,  incidentally,  as  people  mis- 
takenly think,  a  knowledge  of  these  forces,  it  is  the  knowl- 
edge of  these  forces,  rather,  which  makes  plant  improve- 
ment possible." 

Has  this  not  been  also  the  mistake  of  man  regarding 
himself,  and  the  cause,  partly  at  least,  of  his  failure  to 
succeed  in  actually  reaching  a  more  advanced  and  stable 
development? 

This  recognition  of  man's  biological  relationship  to 
all  life  and  the  practical  utilization  of  this  recognition, 
necessitates  a  readjustment  of  thought  and  asks  for  an 
examination  and  reconsideration  of  the  facts  of  human 
conduct  which  are  observable  by  any  thoughtful  person. 
A  quiet  and  progressive  upheaval  of  old  ideas  has  taken 
place  and  is  still  going  on.  Analytic  psychology  attempts 
to  unify  and  value  all  of  the  various  phenomena  of  man 
which  have  been  observed  and  noted  at  different  times 
by  isolated  investigators  of  isolated  manifestations  and 
thus  bring  some  orderly  sequence  into  the  whole.  It 
offers  a  method  Vvhereby  the  relations  of  the  human  being 
biologically  to  all  other  living  forms  can  be  established, 
the  actual  achievement  of  man  himself  adequately  valued, 
and  opens  a  vista  of  the  possibilities  of  improvement  in 
health,  happiness  and  accomplishment  for  the  human 
being. 

Beatrice  M.  Hinkle. 

lo  Gramercy  Park. 


AUTHOR'S  NOTE 

My  task  in  this  work  has  been  to  investigate  an  indi- 
vidual phantasy  system,  and  in  the  doing  of  it  problems 
of  such  magnitude  have  been  uncovered,  that  my  en- 
deavor to  grasp  them  in  their  entirety  has  necessarily 
meant  only  a  superficial  orientation  toward  those  paths, 
the  opening  and  exploration  of  which  may  possibly 
crown  the  work  of  future  investigators  with  success. 

I  am  not  in  sympathy  with  the  attitude  which  favors 
the  repression  of  certain  possible  working  hypotheses 
because  they  are  perhaps  erroneous,  and  so  may  possess 
no  lasting  value.  Certainly  I  endeavored  as  far  as  pos- 
sible to  guard  myself  from  error,  which  might  indeed 
become  especially  dangerous  upon  these  dizzy  heights, 
for  I  am  entirely  aware  of  the  risks  of  these  investiga- 
tions. However,  I  do  not  consider  scientific  work  as  a 
dogmatic  contest,  but  rather  as  a  work  done  for  the  in- 
crease and  deepening  of  knowledge. 

This  contribution  is  addressed  to  those  having  similar 
ideas  concerning  science. 

In  conclusion,  I  must  render  thanks  to  those  who  have 

assisted  my  endeavors  with  valuable  aid,  especially  my 

dear  wife  and  my  friends,  to  whose  disinterested  assist' 

ance  I  am  deeply  indebted. 

C.  G.  Jung. 

Zurich. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

AUTHOR'S   NOTE xlvii 

PART  I 

CHAPTER 

INTRODUCTION x 


Relation  of  the  Incest  Phantasy  to  the  Oedipus  Legend — 
Moral  revulsion  over  such  a  discovery — The  unity  of  the 
antique  and  modern  psychology — Followers  of  Freud  in  this 
field — The  need  of  analyzing  historical  material  in  rela- 
tion to  individual   analysis. 

I.— CONCERNING  THE  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING  .       .         g 

Antiquity  of  the  belief  in  dreams — Dream-meanings  psycho- 
logical, not  literal — They  concern  wish-fulfilments — A 
typical  dream:  the  sexual  assault — What  is  symbolic  in  our 
everyday  thinking? — One  kind  of  thinking:  intensive  and 
deliberate,  or  directed — Directed  thinking  and  thinking  in 
words — Origin  of  speech  in  primitive  nature  sounds — The 
evolution  of  speech — Directed  thinking  a  modern  acquisition 
— Thinking,  not  directed,  a  thinking  in  images:  akin  to 
dreaming — Two  kinds  of  thinking:  directed  and  dream  or 
phantasy  thinking — Science  an  expression  of  directed  thinking 
— The  discipline  of  scholasticism  as  a  forerunner — Antique 
spirit  created  not  science  but  mythology — Their  world  of 
subjective  phantasies  similar  to  that  we  find  in  the  child- 
mind  of  to-day;  or  in  the  savage — The  dream  shows  a  simi- 
lar type — Infantile  thinking  and  dreams  a  re-echo  of  the 
prehistoric  and  the  ancient — The  myths  a  mass-dream  of 
the  people:  the  dream  the  myth  of  the  individual — Phantastic 
thinking  concerns  wishes — Typical  cases,  showing  kinship 
with  ancient  myths — Psychology  of  man  changes  but  slowly 
— Phantastic  thinking  tells  us  of  mythical  or  other  material 
of  undeveloped  and  no  longer  recognized  wish  tendencies 
in  the  soul — The  sexual  base — The  wish,  because  of  its 
disturbing  nature,  expressed  not  directly,  but  symbolically. 

II.— THE  MILLER  PHANTASIES 42 

Miss  Miller's  unusual  suggestibility — Identifying  herself 
with  others — Examples  of  her  autosuggestibility  and  sug- 
gestive effect — Not  striking  in  themselves,  but  from  analytic 
viewpoint  they  afford  a  glance  into  the  soul  of  the  writer — 
Her  phantasies  really  tell  of  the  history  of  her  love. 

III.— THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION 49 

Miss   Miller's   description   of   a   sea-journey — ^Really   a   de- 
scription   of    "  introversion  " — A    retreat    from    reality    into 
xlix 


1  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

herself — The  return  to  the  real  world  with  erotic  impres- 
sion of  officer  singing  in  the  night-watch — The  undei- 
valuing  of  such  erotic  impressions — Their  often  deep  effect 
— The  succeeding  dream,  and  poem — The  denied  erotic  im- 
pression usurps  an  earlier  transference:  it  expresses  itself 
through  the  Father-Imago — Analysis  of  the  poem — Relation 
to  Cyrano,  Milton  and  Job — The  attempt  to  escape  the 
problem  by  a  religious  and  ethical  pose — Contrast  with  real 
religion — Escape  from  erotic  by  transference  to  a  God  or 
Christ — This  made  effective  by  mutual  transference:  "Love 
one  another  " — The  erotic  spiritualized,  however — The  inner 
conflict  kept  conscious  by  this  method — The  modern,  how- 
ever, represses  the  conflict  and  so  becomes  neurotic — The 
function  of  Christianity — Its  biologic  purpose  fulfilled — Its 
forms  of  thought  and  wisdom  still  available. 

IV.— THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH 87 

The  double  role  of  Faust:  creator  and  destroyer — "I  came 
not  to  send  peace,  but  a  sword  " — The  modern  problem  of 
choice  between  Scylla  of  world-renunciation  and  Charybdis 
of  world-acceptance — The  ethical  pose  of  The  Hymn  of 
Creation  having  failed,  the  unconscious  projects  a  new 
attempt  in  the  Moth-Song — The  choice,  as  in  Faust — The 
longing  for  the  sun  (or  God)  the  same  as  that  for  the 
ship's  officer — Not  the  object,  however:  the  longing  is  im- 
portant— God  is  our  own  longing  to  which  we  pay  divine 
honors — The  failure  to  replace  by  a  real  compensation  the 
libido-object  which  is  surrendered,  produces  regression  to 
an  earlier  and  discarded  object — A  return  to  the  infantile — 
/The  use  of  the  parent  image — It  becomes  synonymous  with 
I  God,  Sun,  Fire — Sun  and  snake — Symbols  of  the  libido 
^thered  into  the  sun-symbol — The  tendency  toward  unity 
and  toward  multiplicity — One  God  with  many  attributes: 
or  many  gods  that  are  attributes  of  one — Phallus  and  sun — 
The  sun-hero,  the  well-beloved — Christ  as  sun-god — "  Moth 
and  sun  "  then  brings  us  to  historic  depths  of  the  soul — 
The  sun-hero  creative  and  destructive — Hence:  Moth  and 
Flame:  burning  one's  wings — The  destructiveness  of  being 
fruitful — Wherefore  the  neurotic  withdraws  from  the  con- 
flict, committing  a  sort  of  self-murder — Comparison  with 
Byron's  Heaven  and  Earth. 

PART  II 

I.— ASPECTS  OF  THE  LIBIDO 127 

A  backward  glance — The  sun  the  natural  god — Compari- 
son with  libido — Libido,  "  sun-energy  " — The  sun-image  as 
seen  by  the  mystic  in  introversion — The  phallic  symbol  of 
the  libido — Faust's  key — Mythical  heroes  with  phallic  at- 
tributes— These  heroes  personifications  of  the  human  libido 
and  its  tyoical  fates — A  definition  of  the  word  "  libido  " — 
Its  etymological  context. 


CONTENTS  H 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

II.— THE  CONCEPTION  AND  THE  GENETIC  THEORY  OF 

LIBIDO 139 

A  widening  of  the  conception  of  libido — New  light  from  the 
study  of  paranoia — The  impossibility  of  restricting  the  con- 
ception of  libido  to  the  sexual — A  genetic  definition — The 
function  of  reality  only  partly  sexual — Yet  this,  and  other 
functions,  originally  derivations  from  procreative  impulse — 
The  process  of  transformation — Libido,  and  the  conception  ~l 
of  will  in  general — Examples  in  mythology — The  stages  of  J 
the  libido:  its  desexualized  derivatives  and  differentiations 
— Sublimation  vs.  repression — Splittings  off  of  the  primal 
libido — Application  of  genetic  theory  of  libido  to  intro- 
version psychoses — Replacing  reality  by  archaic  surrogates 
— Desexualizing  libido  by  means  of  phantastic  analogy 
formations — Possibly  human  consciousness  brought  to  present 
state  in  this  manner — The  importance  of  the  little  phrase: 
"  Even  as." 


III.— THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO.     A  POSSIBLE 

SOURCE  OF  PRIMITIVE  HUMAN   DISCOVERIES        .     157 

An  example  of  transition  of  the  libido — Act  of  boring  with 
forefinger:  an  infantile  presexual  activity — Similar  activities 
in  patient's  early  childhood — Outcome  in  dementia  prascox — 
Its  phantasies  related  to  mythological  products:  a  reproduc- 
tion of  the  creations  of  antiquity — The  freeing  of  libido 
from  the  nutritive  to  enter  the  sexual  function — The  epoch 
of  suckling  and  the  epoch  of  displaced  rhythmic  activity — 
These  followed  by  the  beginnings  of  onanistic  attempts — 
An  obstacle  in  the  sexual  zone  produces  regression  to  a 
previous  mode — These  regressions  easier  in  earlier  stages  of 
humanity  than  now — The  ethnological  phantasy  of  boring — 
Examples — The  production  of  fire — Its  sexual  significance — 
A  substitute  for  coitus — The  invention  of  fire-making  then 
due  to  the  need  of  supplying  a  symbol  for  the  sexual  act — 
The  psychological  compulsion  for  such  transitions  of  the 
libido  based  on  an  original  division  of  the  will — Regres- 
sion to  incestuous — Prohibition  here  sends  incestuous  com- 
ponent of  libido  back  to  pre-sexual — Character  of  its  ap- 
plication here — The  substitution  of  Mother-Earth  for  the 
parent — Also  of  infantile  boring — Leading  then  to  discovery 
of  fire — An  example  in  Hindoo  literature — The  sexual' 
significance  of  the  mouth — Its  other  function:  the  mating  call 
— The  regression  which  produced  fire  through  boring  also 
elaborated  the  mating  call — The  beginnings  of  speech — 
Example  from  the  Hindoo — Speech  and  fire  the  firstfruits 
of  transformation  of  libido — The  fire-preparation  regarded 
as  forbidden,  as  robbery — The  forbidden  thing  onanism — 
Onanism  a  cheating  of  sexuality  of  its  purpose — The  cere- 
monial fire-production  a  substitute  for  the  possibility  of 
onanistic  regression — Thus  a  transformation  of  libido 
ensues. 


L 


Hi  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PACE 

IV.— THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO     .       .       .     191 

The  cause  of  introversion — The  forward  and  backward 
flow  of  the  libido — The  abnormal  third — The  conflict  rooted 
in  the  incest  problem — The  "  terrible  mother  " — Miss  Miller's 
introversion — An  internal  conflict — Its  product  of  hypna- 
gogic vision  and  poem — The  uniformity  of  the  unconscious  in 
all  men — The  unconscious  the  object  of  a  true  psycliology — 
The  individual  tendency  with  its  production  of  the  hero 
cult — The  love  for  the  hero  or  god  a  love  for  the  uncon- 
scious— A  turning  back  to  the  mother  of  humanity — Such 
regressions  act  favorably  within  limits — Miss  Miller's  men- 
tion of  the  Sphinx — Theriomorphic  representations  of  the 
libido — Their  tendency  to  represent  father  and  mother — 
The  Sphinx  represents  the  fear  of  the  mother — Miss 
Miller's  mention  of  the  Aztec — Analysis  of  this  figure — The 
significance  of  the  hand  symbolically — The  Aztec  a  substi- 
tute for  the  Sphinx — The  name  Chi-wan-to-pel — The  con- 
nection of  the  anal  region  with  veneration — Cliiwantopel  and 
Ahasver,  the  Wandering  Jew — The  parallel  with  Chidher — 
Heroes  generating  themselves  through  tlieir  own  mothers — 
Analogy  with  the  Sun — Setting  and  rising  sun:  Mithra  and 
Helios,  Christ  and  Peter,  Dhulqarnein  and  Chidher — The 
fish  symbol — The  two  Dadophores :  the  two  thieves — The 
mortal  and  immortal  parts  of  man — The  Trinity  taken  from 
,phallic  symbolism — Comparison  of  libido  with  phallus — 
lAnalysis  of  libido  symbolism  always  leads  back  to  the 
jimother  incest — The  hero  myth  the  myth  of  our  own  suffer- 
iing  unconscious — Faust. 

v.— SYMBOLISM  OF  THE  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH       .     233 

The  crowd  as  symbol  of  mystery — The  city  as  symbol  of 
the  mother — The  motive  of  continuous  "  union  " — The 
typical  journey  of  the  sun-hero — Examples — A  longing  for 
rebirth  through  the  mother — The  compulsion  to  symbolize 
J:he  mother  as  City,  Sea,  Source,  etc. — The  city  as  terrible 
mother  and  as  holy  mother — The  relation  of  the  water- 
motive  to  rebirth — Of  the  tree-motive — Tree  of  life  a 
mother-image — The  bisexual  character  of  trees — Such  sym- 
bols to  be  understood  psychologically,  not  anatomically — 
The  incestuous  desire  aims  at  becoming  a  child  again, 
not  at  incest — It  evades  incest  by  creating  myths  of  symbolic 
rebirth — The  libido  spiritualized  through  this  use  of  sym- 
bols— To  be  born  of  the  spirit — This  compulsion  toward 
symbolism  brings  a  release  of  forces  bound  up  in  incest — 
This  process  in  Christianity — Christianity  with  its  repres- 
sion of  the  manifest  sexual  the  negative  of  the  ancient 
sexual  cult — The  unconscious  transformation  of  the  incest 
wish  into  religious  exercise  does  not  meet  the  modern  need 
— A  conscious  method  necessary,  involving  moral  autonomy 
— Replacing  belief  by  understanding — The  history  of  the 
symbolism  of  trees — The  rise  of  the  idea  of  the  terrible 
mother  a  mask  of  the  incest  wish — The  myth  of  Osiris — Re- 
lated examples — The  motive  of  "  devouring" — The  Cross  of 


pri 


CONTENTS  liii 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

Christ:  tree  of  death  and  tree  of  life — Lilith:  the  devouring 
mother — The  Lamias — The  conquering  of  the  mother — Snake 
and  dragon:  the  resistance  against  incest — The  father  rep- 
resents the  active  repulse  of  the  incest  wish  of  the  son — He 
frequently  becomes  the  monster  to  be  overcome  by  the  hero — 
The  Mithraic  sacrificing  of  the  incest  wish  an  overcoming  of 
the  mother — A   replacing  of   archaic  overpowering  by  sac- 
rifice   of  the    wish — The   crucified    Christ    an   expression    of 
this     renunciation — Other     cross     sacrifices — Cross     symboL. 
possesses  significance  of  "  union  " — Child  in  mother's  womb:j 
or  man  and  mother  in  union — Conception  of  the  soul  a  d»-J 
rivative  of  mother  imago — The  power  of  incest  prohibition 
created   the   self-conscious  individual — It   was  the   coercion 
to  domestication — The  further  visions  of  Miss  Miller. 

VI.— THE      BATTLE      FOR      DELIVERANCE      FROM      THE 

MOTHER 307 

The  appearance  of  the  hero  Chiwantopel  on  horseback — 
Hero  and  horse  equivalent  of  humanity  and  its  repressed 
libido — Horse  a  libido  symbol,  partly  phallic,  partly  mater- 
nal, like  the  tree — It  represents  the  libido  repressed  through 
the  incest  prohibition — The  scene  of  Chiwantopel  and  the 
Indian — Recalling  Cassius  and  Brutus:  also  delirium  of 
Cyrano — Identification  of  Cassius  with  his  mother — His  in- 
fantile disposition — Miss  Miller's  hero  also  infantile — Her 
visions  arise  from  an  infantile  mother  transference — Her 
hero  to  die  from  an  arrow  wound — The  symbolism  of  the 
arrow — The  onslaught  of  unconscious  desires — The  deadly 
arrows  strike  the  hero  from  within — It  means  the  state  of 
introversion — A  sinking  back  into  the  world  of  the  child — 
The  danger  of  this  regression — It  may  mean  annihilation 
or  new  life — Examples  of  introversion — The  clash  between 
the  retrogressive  tendency  in  the  individual  unconscious 
and  the  conscious  forward  striving — Willed  introversion — 
The  unfulfilled  sacrifice  in  the  Miller  phantasy  means  an 
attempt  to  renounce  the  mother:  the  conqu&st  of  a  new  life 
through  the  death  of  the  old — The  hero  Miss  Miller  herself. 

VII.— THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE 34^ 

Chiwantopel's  monologue — His  quest  for  the  "  one  who 
understands  " — A  quest  for  the  mother — Also  for  the  life- 
companion — The  sexual  element  in  the  wish — The  battle 
for  independence  from  the  mother — Its  peril — Miss  Miller's 
use  of  Longfellow's  Hiawatha — An  analysis  of  Hiawatha — 
A  typical  hero  of  the  libido — The  miraculous  birth — The 
hero's  birth  symbolic  because  it  is  really  a  rebirth  from 
the  mother-spouse — The  twofold  mother  which  in  Christian 
mythology  becomes  twofold  birth — The  hero  his  own  pro- 
creator — Virgin  conception  a  mask  for  incestuous  impregna- 
tion— Hiawatha's  early  life — The  identification  of  mother- 
nature  with  the  mother — The  killing  of  a  roebuck  a  con- 
quering of  the  parents — He  takes  on  their  strength — He 
goes  forth  to  slay  the  father  in  order  to  possess  the  mother 


liv  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

— Minnehaha,  the  mother — Hiawatha's  introversion — Hiding 
in  the  lap  of  nature  really  a  return  to  the  mother's  womb 
— The  regression  to  the  presexual  revives  the  importance 
of  nutrition — The  inner  struggle  with  the  mother,  to  over- 
power and  impregnate  her — This  fight  against  the  longing 
^or  the  mother  brings  new  strength — The  Mondamin  motive 
in  other  myths — The  Savior-hero  the  fruit  of  the  entrance 
of  the  libido  into  the  personal  maternal  depths — This  is 
to  die,  and  be  born  again — Hiawatha's  struggle  with  the 
fish-monster — A  new  deliverance  from  the  mother — And 
so  again  with  Megissogwon,  the  Magician — The  hero  must 
again  and  again  conquer  the  mother — Then  follows  his 
marriage  with  Minnehaha — Other  incidents,  his  death:  the 
sinking  of  the  sun  in  the  west — Miss  Miller  also  reminded 
by  Chiwantopel's  longing  of  Wagner's  Siegfried — Analysis 
of  the  Siegfried  myth — The  treasure-guarding  dragon — 
The  dragon  the  son's  repressed  longing  for  the  mother — 
Symbolism  of  the  cave — The  separation  from  the  mother,  the 
hero's  conquering  of  the  dragon — The  symbolism  of  the  cup 
— Drinking  from  the  mother — Cup  of  the  blood  of  Christ — 
The  resultant  mysterious  union  of  man — Profane  interpre- 
tations of  this  mystery — The  phallic  significance  of  the 
:  serpent — The  snake  as  representing  the  introverting  libido 
A  — Self-procreation:  or  creation  of  the  world  through  intro- 
I  version — The  world  thus  an  emanation  of  the  libido — The 
hero  himself  a  serpent — The  psychoanalytic  treatment  of 
regression — The  hidden  libido  touched  upon  causes  a  strug- 
gle: that  is,  the  hero  fights  the  fight  with  the  treasure- 
guarding  dragon — The  awakening  of  Brunhilda — Siegfried 
finding  his  mother:  a  symbol  of  his  own  libido — The  con- 
quest of  the  terrible  mother  brings  the  love  and  life- 
giving  mother. 

Vni.— THE  SACRIFICE 428 

Miss  Miller's  vision  again — The  paradoxical  striving 
of  the  libido  away  from  the  mother  toward  the  mother — 
The  destroying  mother  becomes  beneficent  on  being  con- 
quered— Chiwantopel  a  hero  of  words,  not  deeds — He  has 
*  not  that  will   to  live  which  breaks  the  magic  circle  of  the 

incestuous — His  identification  with  the  author,  and  her 
wish  for  the  parents — The  end  is  the  devouring  of  the 
daughter's  libido  by  the  mother — Sexuality  of  the  uncon- 
scious mpielv  a  svmbo! — Idle  dreaming  the  mother  of  the 
fear  of  death — This  downward  path  in  the  poetry  of  Hol- 
derlin — The  estrangement  from  reality,  the  introversion 
leading  to  death — The  necessity  of  freeing  libido  for  a 
complete  devotion  to  life — Otherwise  bound  by  unconscious 
compulsion:  Fate — Sublimation  through  vohmtary  work — 
Creation  of  the  world  through  cosmic  sacrifice — Man  dis- 
covers the  world  when  he  sacrifices  the  mother — The  incest 
barrier  as  the  producer  of  thought — Budding  sexuality 
drawing  the  individual  from  the  family — The  mind  dawns 
at  the  moment  the  child  begins  to  be  free  of  the  mother — 


CONTENTS  Iv 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

He  seeks  to  win  the  world,  and  leave  the  mother — Childish 
regression  to  the  presexual  brings  archaic  phantasies — The 
incest  problem  not  physical,  but  psychological — Sacrifice  of 
of  the  horse:  sacrifice  of  the  animal  nature — The  sacrifice 
of  the  "mother  libido":  of  the  son  to  the  mother — Su- 
periority of  Christian  symbol:  the  sacrifice,  not  only  of 
lower  nature,  but  the  whole  personality — Miss  Miller's 
phantasy  passes  from  sacrifice  of  the  sexual,  to  sacrifice  of 
the  infantile  personality — Problem  of  psychoanalysis,  ex- 
pressed mythologically,  the  sacrifice  and  rebirth  of  the 
infantile  hero — The  libido  wills  the  destruction  of  its 
creation:  horse  and  serpent — The  end  of  the  hero  by  means 
of  earthquake — The  one  who  understands  him  is  the 
mother. 


"  Therefore  theory,  which  gives  to  facts  their  value  and  sig- 
nificance, is  often  very  useful,  even  if  it  is  partially  false,  for  it 
throws  light  on  phenomena  which  no  one  observed,  it  forces  an 
examination,  from  many  angles,  of  facts  which  no  one  had  hitherto 
studied,  and  it  gives  the  impulse  for  more  extended  and  more  pro- 
ductive researches. 

"It  is,  therefore,  a  moral  duty  for  the  man  of  science  to  expose 
himself  to  the  risk  of  committing  error  and  to  submit  to  criticism, 
in  order  that  science  may  continue  to  progress.  A  writer  has 
attacked  the  author  for  this  very  severely,  saying,  here  is  a  scientific 
ideal  very  limited  and  very  paltry.  But  those  who  are  endowed 
with  a  mind  sufficiently  serious  and  impersonal  as  not  to  believe 
that  all  that  they  write  is  the  expression  of  truth  absolute  and 
eternal,  approve  of  this  theory  which  places  the  aims  of  science  well 
above  the  miserable  vanity  and  paltry  '  amour  propre '  of  the 
scientist." — Guglielmo  Ferrero. 

Les  Lois  Psychologiques  du  Symbolisme — 1895-    Preface,  p.  'viii. 


PART  I 
INTRODUCTION 

Any  one  who  can  read  Freud's  "  Interpretation  of  the 
Dream  "  without  scientific  rebellion  at  the  newness  and 
apparently  unjustified  daring  of  its  analytical  presenta- 
tion, and  without  moral  indignation  at  the  astonishing 
nudity  of  the  dream  interpretation,  and  who  can  allow 
this  unusual  array  of  facts  to  influence  his  mind  calmly 
and  without  prejudice,  will  surely  be  deeply  impressed  at 
that  place  where  Freud  calls  to  mind  the  fact  that 
an  individual  psychologic  conflict,  namely,  the  Incest 
Phantasy,  is  the  essential  root  of  that  powerful  ancient 
dramatic  material,  the  Oedipus  legend.  The  impression 
made  by  this  simple  reference  may  be  likened  to  that 
wholly  peculiar  feeling  which  arises  in  us  if,  for  example, 
in  the  noise  and  tumult  of  a  modern  street  we  should 
come  across  an  ancient  relic — the  Corinthian  capital  of  a 
walled-in  column,  or  a  fragment  of  inscription.  Just  a 
moment  ago  we  were  given  over  to  the  noisy  ephemeral 
life  of  the  present,  when  something  very  far  away  and 
strange  appears  to  us,  which  turns  our  attention  to  things 
of  another  order;  a  glimpse  away  from  the  incoherent 
multiplicity  of  the  present  to  a  higher  coherence  in  his- 
tory. Very  likely  it  would  suddenly  occur  to  us  that  on 
this  spot  where  we  now  run  busily  to  and  fro  a  similar 
life   and   activity  prevailed  two   thousand  years  ago   in 

3 


4  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

somewhat  other  forms;  similar  passions  moved  mankind, 
and  man  was  likewise  convinced  of  the  uniqueness  of  his 
existence.  I  would  liken  the  impression  which  the  first 
acquaintance  with  the  monuments  of  antiquity  so  easily 
leaves  behind  to  that  impression  which  Freud's  reference 
to  the  Oedipus  legend  makes — for  while  we  are  still  en- 
gaged with  the  confusing  impressions  of  the  variability  of 
the  Individual  Soul,  suddenly  there  is  opened  a  revelation 
of  the  simple  greatness  of  the  Oedipus  tragedy — that 
never  extinguished  light  of  the  Grecian  theatre. 

This  breadth  of  outlook  carries  in  itself  something  of 
revelation.  For  us,  the  ancient  psychology  has  long  since 
been  buried  among  the  shadows  of  the  past;  in  the  school- 
room one  could  scarcely  repress  a  sceptical  smile  when 
one  indiscreetly  reckoned  the  comfortable  matronly  age 
of  Penelope  and  the  age  of  Jocasta,  and  comically  com- 
pared the  result  of  the  reckoning  with  the  tragic-erotic 
struggles  in  the  legend  and  drama.  We  did  not  know  at 
that  time  (and  who  knows  even  today?)  that  the  mother 
can  be  the  all-consuming  passion  of  the  son,  which  per- 
haps undermines  his  whole  life  and  tragically  destroys 
it,  so  that  not  even  the  magnitude  of  the  Oedipus  Fate 
seems  one  jot  overdrawn.  Rare  and  pathologically  under- 
stood cases  like  Ninon  de  Lenclos  and  her  son  ^  lie  too 
far  removed  from  most  of  us  to  give  a  living  impression. 
But  when  we  follow  the  paths  traced  out  by  Freud,  we 
arrive  at  a  recognition  of  the  present  existence  of  such 
possibilities,  which,  although  they  are  too  weak  to  en- 
force Incest,  are  still  strong  enough  to  cause  disturbances 
of  considerable  magnitude  in  the  soul.     The  admission 


INTRODUCTION  5 

of  such  possibilities  to  one's  self  does  not  occur  without  a 
great  burst  of  moral  revulsion.  Resistances  arise  which 
only  too  easily  dazzle  the  intellect,  and,  through  that, 
make  knowledge  of  self  impossible.  Whenever  we  suc- 
ceed, however,  in  stripping  feelings  from  more  scientific 
knowledge,  then  that  abyss  which  separates  our  age  from 
the  antique  is  bridged,  and,  with  astonishment,  we  see 
that  Oedipus  is  still  a  living  thing  for  us.  The  importance 
of  such  an  impression  should  not  be  undervalued.  We 
are  taught  by  this  insight  that  there  is  an  identity  of 
elementary  human  conflicts  existing  independent  of  time 
and  place.  That  which  affected  the  Greeks  with  horror 
still  remains  true,  but  it  is  true  for  us  only  when  we  give 
up  a  vain  illusion  that  we  are  different — that  is  to  say, 
more  moral,  than  the  ancients.  We  of  the  present  day 
have  nearly  succeeded  in  forgetting  that  an  indissoluble 
common  bond  binds  us  to  the  people  of  antiquity.  With 
this  truth  a  path  is  opened  to  the  understanding  of  the 
ancient  mind;  an  understanding  which  so  far  has  not 
existed,  and,  on  one  side,  leads  to  an  inner  sympathy,  and, 
on  the  other  side,  to  an  intellectual  comprehension. 
Through  buried  strata  of  the  individual  soul  we  come 
indirectly  into  possession  of  the  living  mind  of  the  ancient 
culture,  and,  just  precisely  through  that,  do  we  win  that 
stable  point  of  view  outside  our  own  culture,  from  which, 
for  the  first  time,  an  objective  understanding  of  their 
mechanisms  would  be  possible.  At  least  that  is  the  hope 
which  we  get  from  the  rediscovery  of  the  Oedipus 
problem. 

The  enquiry  made  possible  by  Freud's  work  has  al- 


6  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

ready  resulted  fruitfully;  we  are  indebted  to  this  stimula- 
tion for  some  bold  attacks  upon  the  territory  of  the 
history  of  the  human  mind.  There  are  the  works  of 
Riklin,^  Abraham,''  Rank,*  Maeder,^  Jones,'' — recently 
Silberer  has  joined  their  ranks  with  a  beautiful  investiga- 
tion entitled  "  Phantasie  und  Mythus."  ^  We  are  in- 
debted to  Pfister  ^  for  a  comprehensive  work  which 
cannot  be  overlooked  here,  and  which  is  of  much  impor- 
tance for  Christian  religious  psychology.  The  leading 
purpose  of  these  works  is  the  unlocking  of  historical 
problems  through  the  application  of  psychoanalytic 
knowledge;  that  is  to  say,  knowledge  drawn  from  the 
activity  of  the  modern  unconscious  mind  concerning  spe- 
cific historical  material. 

I  must  refer  the  reader  entirely  to  the  specified  works, 
in  order  that  he  may  gain  information  concerning  the 
extent  and  the  kind  of  insight  which  has  already  been 
obtained.  The  explanations  are  in  many  cases  dubious 
in  particulars;  nevertheless,  this  detracts  in  no  way  from 
the  total  result.  It  would  be  significant  enough  if  only 
the  far-reaching  analogy  between  the  psychologic  struc- 
ture of  the  historical  relics  and  the  structure  of  the  recent 
individual  psychologic  products  alone  were  demonstrated. 
This  proof  is  possible  of  attainment  for  every  intelligent 
person  through  the  work  done  up  to  this  time.  The 
analogy  prevails  especially  in  symbolism,  as  Riklin,  Rank, 
Maeder,  and  Abraham  have  pointed  out  with  illuminat- 
ing examples;  it  is  also  shown  in  the  individual  mechan- 
isms of  unconscious  work,  that  is  to  say  in  repression, 
condensation,  etc.,  as  Abraham  explicitly  shows. 


INTRODUCTION  7 

Up  to  the  present  time  the  psychoanalytic  investigator 
has  turned  his  interest  chiefly  to  the  analysis  of  the  indi- 
vidual psychologic  problems.  It  seems  to  me,  however, 
that  in  the  present  state  of  affairs  there  is  a  more  or  less 
imperative  demand  for  the  psychoanalyst  to  broaden 
the  analysis  of  the  individual  problems  by  a  comparative 
study  of  historical  material  relating  to  them,  just  as 
Freud  has  already  done  in  a  masterly  manner  in  his  book 
on  "  Leonardo  da  Vinci."  ^  For,  just  as  the  psycho- 
analytic conceptions  promote  understanding  of  the  his- 
toric psychologic  creations,  so  reversedly  historical  mate- 
rials can  shed  new  light  upon  individual  psychologic 
problems.  These  and  similar  considerations  have  caused 
me  to  turn  my  attention  somewhat  more  to  the  historical, 
in  the  hope  that,  out  of  this,  new  insight  into  the  founda- 
tions of  individual  psychology  might  be  won. 


CHAPTER  I 

CONCERNING  THE  TWO  KINDS  OF 
THINKING 

It  Is  a  well-known  fact  that  one  of  the  principles  of 
analytic  psychology  is  that  the  dream  images  are  to  be 
understood  symbolically;  that  is  to  say,  that  they  are  not 
to  be  taken  literally  just  as  they  are  presented  in  sleep, 
but  that  behind  them  a  hidden  meaning  has  to  be  sur- 
mised. It  is  this  ancient  idea  of  a  dream  symbolism  which 
has  challenged  not  only  criticism,  but,  in  addition  to  that, 
the  strongest  opposition.  That  dreams  may  be  full  of 
import,  and,  therefore,  something  to  be  interpreted,  is  cer- 
tainly neither  a  strange  nor  an  extraordinary  idea.  This 
has  been  familiar  to  mankind  for  thousands  of  years,  and, 
therefore,  seems  much  like  a  banal  truth.  The  dream 
interpretations  of  the  Egyptians  and  Chaldeans,  and  the 
story  of  Joseph  who  Interpreted  Pharaoh's  dreams,  are 
known  to  every  one,  and  the  dream  book  of  Artemidorus 
is  also  familiar.  From  countless  inscribed  monuments  of 
all  times  and  peoples  we  learn  of  foreboding  dreams,  of 
significant,  of  prophetic  and  also  of  curative  dreams 
which  the  Deity  sent  to  the  sick,  sleeping  in  the  temple. 
We  know  the  dream  of  the  mother  of  Augustus,  who 
dreamt  she  was  to  be  with  child  by  the  Deity  trans- 
formed into  a  snake.  We  will  not  heap  up  references 
and  examples  to  bear  witness  to  the  existence  of  a  belief 


CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING        9 

In  the  symbolism  of  dreams.  When  an  idea  is  so  old, 
and  is  so  generally  believed,  it  is  probably  true  in  some 
way,  and,  indeed,  as  is  mostly  the  case,  is  not  literally 
true,  but  is  true  psychologically.  In  this  distinction  lies 
the  reason  why  the  old  fogies  of  science  have  from  time 
to  time  thrown  away  an  inherited  piece  of  ancient  truth; 
because  it  was  not  literal  but  psychologic  truth.  For  such 
discrimination  this  type  of  person  has  at  no  time  had  any 
comprehension. 

From  our  experience,  it  is  hardly  conceivable  that  a 
God  existing  outside  of  ourselves  causes  dreams,  or  that 
the  dream,   eo  ipso,   foresees  the   future  prophetically. 
When  we  translate  this  into  the  psychdlogicriioweveT; — y 
then  the  ancient  theories  sound  much  more  reconcilable,/ 
namely,  the  dream  arises  from  a  part  of  the  mind  unf 
known  to  us,  but  none  the  less  important,  and  is  concerned 
with  the  desires  for  the  approaching  day.    This  psycho- 
logic formula  derived  from  the  ancient  superstitious  cont 
ceptlon    of   dreams,    is,    so   to    speak,    exactly   identified 
with    the    Freudian    psychology,    which    assumes    a    ris-  \, 
Ing  wish  from  the  unconscious  to  be  the  source  of  the>' 
dream.  ' 

As  the  old  belief  teaches,  the  Deity  or  the  Demon 
speaks  in  symbolic  speech  to  the  sleeper,  and  the  dream 
interpreter  has  the  riddle  to  solve.    In  modern  speech  we 
say  this  means  that  the  dream  is  a  series  of  images,  whicfT"^    \ 
are  apparently  contradictory  and  nonsensical,  but  arise  in         I 
reality  from  psychologic  material  which  yields  a  clear        \ 
meaning.  ■ ^      J 

Were  I  to  suppose  among  my  readers  a  far-reaching 


lo         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

ignorance  of  dream  analysis,  then  I  should  be  obliged  to 
illustrate  this  statement  with  numerous  examples. 
Today,  however,  these  things  are  quite  well  known,  so 
that  one  must  proceed  carefully  with  every-day  dream 
material,  out  of  consideration  for  a  public  educated  in 
these  matters.  It  is  a  special  inconvenience  that  no  dream 
can  be  recounted  without  being  obliged  to  add  to  it  half 
a  life's  history  which  affords  the  individual  foundations 
of  the  dream,  but  there  are  some  few  typical  dreams 

r which  can  be  told  without  too  great  a  ballast.  One  of 
these  is  the  dream  of  the  sexual  assault,  which  is  especially 
prevalent  among  women.  A  girl~sTe£ping  after  an  even- 
ing happily  spent  in  dancing,  dreams  that  a  robber  breaks 
open  her  door  noisily  and  stabs  through  her  body  | 
with  a  lance.  This  theme,  which  explains  itself,  has 
countless  variations,  some  simple,  some  complicated. 
Instead  of  the  lance  it  is  a  sword,  a  dagger,  a  revolver, 
a  gun,  a  cannon,  a  hydrant,  a  watering  pot;  or  the  assault 
is  a  burglary,  a  pursuit,  a  robbery,  or  it  is  some  one 
hidden  in  the  closet  or  under  the  bed.  Or  the  danger 
may  be  illustrated  by  wild  animals;  for  instance,  a  horse 
which  throws  the  dreamer  to  the  ground  and  kicks  her  in 
the  body  with  his  hind  foot;  lions,  tigers,  elephants  with 
threatening  trunks,  and  finally  snakes  in  endless  variety. 
Sometimes  the  snake  creeps  into  the  mouth,  sometimes 
it  bites  the  breast  like  Cleopatra's  legendary  asp,  some- 
times It  comes  in  the  role  of  the  paradisical  snake,  or  in 
the  variations  of  Franz  Stuck,  whose  pictures  of  snakes 
bear  the  significant  titles  "  Vice,"  "  Sin,"  "  Lust."  The 
mixture  of  lust  and  anxiety  is  expressed  incomparably  in 


CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING      ii 

the  very  atmosphere   of  these   pictures,   and  far  more 
brutally,  indeed,  than  in  Morike's  charming  poem. 

The  Maiden  s  First  Love  Song 

What's  in  the  net? 

Behold, 
But  I  am  afraid, 
Do  I  grasp  a  sweet  eel. 
Do  I  seize  a  snake? 

Love  is  a  blind 

Fisherwoman ; 

Tell  the  child 

Where  to  seize. 
Already  it  leaps  in  my  hands. 

Oh,  Pity,  or  delight! 
With  nestlings  and  turnings 

It  coils  on  my  breast. 

It  bites  me,  oh,  wonder! 

Boldly  through  the  skin, 

It  darts  under  my  heart. 
Oh,  Love,  I  shudder! 

What  can  I  do,  what  can  I  begin  ? 
That  shuddering  thing; 
There  it  crackles  within 
And  coils  in  a  ring. 
It  must  be  poisoned. 
Here  it  crawls  around. 
Blissfully  I  feel  as  it  worms 
Itself  into  my  soul 
And  kills  me  finally. 

All  these  things  are  simple,  and  need  no  explanation 
to  be  intelligible.     Somewhat  more  complicated,  but  still 


12         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

unmistakable,  is  the  dream  of  a  woman;  she  sees  the 
triumphal  arch  of  Constantine.  A  cannon  stands  before 
It,  to  the  right  of  It  a  bird,  to  the  left  a  man.  A  shot 
flashes  out  of  the  tube;  the  projectile  hits  her;  it  goes 
into  her  pocket,  into  her  purse.  There  it  remains,  and 
she  holds  her  purse  as  if  something  very  precious  were 
in  it.  The  image  disappears,  and  she  continues  to  see 
only  the  stock  of  the  cannon,  and  over  that  Constantine's 
motto,  "  In  hoc  signo  vinces." 

These  few  references  to  the  symbolic  nature  of  dreams 
are  perhaps  sufficient.  For  whomsoever  the  proof  may 
appear  insufficient,  and  it  is  certainly  Insufficient  for  a 
beginner,  further  evidence  may  be  found  In  the  funda- 
mental work  of  Freud,  and  in  the  works  of  Stekel  and 
Rank  which  are  fuller  in  certain  particulars.  We  must 
assume  here  that  the  dream  symbolism  Is  an  established 
fact,  in  order  to  bring  to  our  study  a  mind  suitably  pre- 
pared for  an  appreciation  of  this  work.  We  would  not 
be  successful  If  we,  on  the  contrary,  were  to  be  astonished 
at  the  Idea  that  an  intellectual  image  can  be  projected 
Into  our  conscious  psychic  activity;  an  Image  which  ap- 
parently obeys  such  wholly  other  laws  and  purposes  than 
those  governing  the  conscious  psychic  product. 

'Why  are  dreams  symbolic?  Every  "  why  "  In  psychol- 
ogy is  divided  into  two  separate  questions :  first,  for  what 
purpose  are  dreams  symbolic?  We  will  answer  this 
question  only  to  abandon  it  at  once.  Dreams  are  symbolic 
in  order  that  they  can  not  be  understood;  in  order  that 
the  wish,  which  Is  the  source  of  the  dream,  may  remain 
unknown.    The  question  why  this  is  so  and  not  otherwise, 


CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING       13 

leads  us  out  Into  the  far-reaching  experiences  and  trains 
of  thought  of  the  Freudian  psychology. 

Here  the  second  question  Interests  us,  viz.,  How  is  it 
that  dreams  are  symbolic?  That  Is  to  say,  from  where 
does  this  capacity  for  symboUc  representation  come,  of 
which  we.  In  our  conscious  daily  life,  can  discover  ap- 
parently no  traces? 

Let  us  examine  this  more  closely.  Can  we  really  dis- 
cover nothing  symbolic  In  our  every-day  thought?  Let 
us  follow  our  trains  of  thought;  let  us  take  an  example. 
We  think  of  the  war  of  1870  and  1871.  We  think  about 
a  series  of  bloody  battles,  the  siege  of  Strassburg,  Bel- 
fort,  Paris,  the  Treaty  of  Peace,  the  foundation  of  the 
German  Empire,  and  so  on.  How  have  we  been  think- 
ing? We  start  with  an  idea,  or  super-Idea,  as  it  is  also 
called,  and  without  thinking  of  it,  but  each  time  merely 
guided  by  a  feeling  of  direction,  we  think  about  individual 
reminiscences  of  the  war.  In  this  we  can  find  nothing 
symbolic,  and  our  whole  conscious  thinking  proceeds  ac- 
cording to  this  type.^ 

If  we  observe  our  thinking  very  narrowly,  and  follow 
an  Intensive  train  of  thought,  as,  for  example,  the  solu- 
tion of  a  difficult  problem,  then  suddenly  we  notice  that 
we  are  thinking  in  words,  that  in  wholly  intensive  think- 
ing we  begin  to  speak  to  ourselves,  or  that  we  occasionally 
write  down  the  problem,  or  make  a  drawing  of  it  so  as  to 
be  absolutely  clear.  It  must  certainly  have  happened 
to  any  one  who  has  lived  for  some  time  in  a  foreign 
country,  that  after  a  certain  period  he  has  begun  to  think 
In  the  language  of  the  country.     A  very  intensive  train 


14         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

of  thinking  works  itself  out  more  or  less  in  word  form; 
that  is,  if  one  wants  to  express  it,  to  teach  it,  or  to  con- 
vince any  one  of  it.  Evidently  it  directs  itself  wholly  to 
the  outside  world.  To  this  extent,  this  directed  or  logical 
thinking  is  a  reality  thinking,"  having  a  real  existence  for 
us;  that  is  to  say,  a  thinking  which  adjusts  itself  to  actual 
conditions,''  where  we,  expressed  in  other  words,  imitate 
the  succession  of  objectively  real  things,  so  that  the 
images  in  our  mind  follow  after  each  other  in  the  same 
strictly  causal  succession  as  the  historical  events  outside 
of  our  mind.* 

We  call  this  thinking,  thinking  with  directed  attention. 
It  has,  in  addition,  the  peculiarity  that  one  is  tired  by  if, 
and  that,  on  this  account,  it  is  set  into  action  only  for  a 
time.  Our  whole  vital  accomplishment,  which  is  so  ex- 
pensive, is  adaptation  to  environment;  a  part  of  it  is  the 
directed  thinking,  which,  biologically  expressed,  is  noth- 
ing but  a  process  of  psychic  assimilation,  which,  as  in 
every  vital  accomplishment,  leaves  behind  a  correspond- 
ing exhaustion. 

The  material  with  which  we  think  is  language  and 
speech  concept,  a  thing  which  has  been  used  from  time 
immemorial  as  something  external,  a  bridge  for  thought, 
and  which  has  a  single  purpose — that  of  communication. 
As  long  as  we  think  directedly,  we  think  for  others  and 
speak  to  others.^ 

Speech  is  originally  a  system  of  emotional  and  imita- 
tive sounds — sounds  which  express  terror,  fear,  anger, 
love;  and  sounds  which  imitate  the  noises  of  the  elements, 
the  rushing  and  gurgling  of  water,  the  rolling  of  thunder, 


CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING      15 

the  tumults  of  the  winds,  the  tones  of  the  animal  world, 
and  so  on;  and,  finally,  those  which  represent  a  combina- 
tion of  the  sounds  of  perception  and  of  affective  reaction.® 
Likewise  in  the  more  or  less  modern  languages,  large 
quantities  of  onomatopoetic  relics  are  retained;  for  ex- 
ample, sounds  for  the  movement  of  water, — 

Rauschen,  risseln,  ruschen,  rinnen,  rennen,  to  rush,  ruscello, 
ruisseau,  river,  Rhein. 

Wasser,  wissen,  wissern,  pissen,  piscis,  fisch. 

Thus  language  is  orginally  and  essentially  nothing  but 
a  system  of  signs  or  symbols,  which  denote  real  occur- 
rences, or  their  echo  in  the  human  soul. 

Therefore  one  must  decidedly  agree  with  Anatole 
France,^  when  he  says, 

"What  is  thought,  and  how  do  we  think?  We  think  with 
words;  that  alone  is  sensual  and  brings  us  back  to  nature.  Think 
of  it!  The  metaphysician  has  onlj'^  the  perfected  cry  of  monkeys 
and  dogs  with  which  to  construct  the  system  of  the  world.  That 
which  he  calls  profound  speculation  and  transcendent  method  is 
to  put  end  to  end  in  an  arbitrary  order  the  natural  sounds  which 
cry  out  hunger,  fear,  and  love  in  the  primitive  forests,  and  to 
which  were  attached  little  by  little  the  meanings  which  one  be- 
lieved to  be  abstract,  when  they  were  only  crude. 

"  Do  not  fear  that  the  succession  of  small  cries,  feeble  and 
stifled,  which  compose  a  book  of  philosophy,  will  teach  us  so 
much  regarding  the  universe,  that  we  can  live  in  it  no  longer." 

Thus  is  our  directed  thinking,  and  even  if  we  were  the 
loneliest  and  furthest  removed  from  our  fellows,  this 
thinking  is  nothing  but  the  first  notes  of  a  long-drawn- 
out  call  to  our  companions  that  water  had  been  found, 


i6         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

that  we  had  killed  the  bear,  that  a  storm  was  approach- 
ing, or  that  wolves  were  prowling  around  the  camp.  A 
striking  paradox  of  Abelard's  which  expresses  in  a  very 
intuitive  way  the  whole  human  limitation  of  our  compli- 
^cated  thinking  process,  reads, — "  Sermo  generatur  ab 
intellectu  et  general  intellectum."  * 

Any  system  of  philosophy,  no  matter  how  abstract, 
represents  in  means  and  purpose  nothing  more  than  an 
extremely  cleverly  developed  combination  of  original 
nature  sounds.^  Hence  arises  the  desire  of  a  Schopen- 
hauer or  a  Nietzsche  for  recognition  and  understanding, 
and  the  despair  and  bitterness  of  their  loneliness.  On,e 
might  expect,  perhaps,  that  a  man  full  of  genius  could 
pasture  in  the  greatness  of  his  own  thoughts,  and  re- 
nounce the  cheap  approbation  of  the  crowd  which  he 
despises;  yet  he  succumbs  to  the  more  powerful  impulse 
of  the  herd  instinct.  His  searching  and  his  finding,  his 
call,  belong  to  the  herd. 

When  I  said  just  now  that  directed  thinking  is  properly 
a  thinking  with  words,  and  quoted  that  clever  testimony 
of  Anatole  France  as  drastic  proof  of  it,  a  misunder- 
standing might  easily  arise,  namely,  that  directed  thinking 
is  really  only  "  word."  That  certainly  would  go  too  far. 
Language  should,  however,  be  comprehended  in  a  wider 
sense  than  that  of  speech,  which  is  in  itself  only  the  ex- 
pression of  the  formulated  thought  which  is  capable  of 
being  communicated  in  the  widest  sense.  Otherwise,  the 
deaf  mute  would  be  limited  to  the  utmost  in  his  capacity 
for  thinking,  which  is  not  the  case  in  reality.     Without 

*  Speech  is  generated  by  the  intellect  and  in  turn  generates  intellect 


CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING       17 

any  knowledge  of  the  spoken  word,  he  has  his 
"  language."  This  language,  considered  from  the  stand- 
point of  history,  or  in  other  words,  directed  thinking, 
is  here  a  descendant  of  the  primitive  words,  as,  for  in- 
stance, Wundt  °  expresses  it. 

"  A  further  important  result  of  that  co-operation  of  sound  and 
sign  interchange  consists  in  the  fact  that  very  many  words  gradu- 
ally lose  altogether  their  original  concrete  thought  meaning,  and 
turn  into  signs  for  general  ideas  and  for  the  expression  of  the 
apperceptive  functions  of  relation  and  comparison  and  their 
products.  In  this  manner  abstract  thought  develops,  which,  because 
it  would  not  be  possible  without  the  change  of  meaning  lying  at 
the  root  of  it,  is  indeed  a  production  of  that  psychic  and  psycho- 
physical reciprocal  action  out  of  which  the  development  of  language 
takes  place." 

Jodl  ^^  denies  the  identity  of  language  and  thought, 
because,  for  one  reason,  one  and  the  same  psychic  fact 
might  be  expressed  in  different  languages  in  different 
ways.  From  that  he  draws  the  conclusion  that  a  "  super- 
language  thinking  "  exists.  Certainly  there  is  such  a  thing, 
whether  with  Erdmann  one  considers  it  "  hypologisch," 
or  with  Jodl  as  "  super-language."  Only  this  is  not 
logical  thinking.  My  conception  of  it  agrees  with  the 
noteworthy  contribution  made  by  Baldwin,  which  I  will 
quote  here  word  for  word." 

"  The  transmission  from  pre-judgmental  to  judgmental  mean- 
ing is  just  that  from  knowledge  which  has  social  confirmation 
to  that  which  gets  along  without  it.  The  meanings  utilized  for 
judgment  are  those  already  developed  in  their  presuppositions 
and  applications  through  the  confirmation  of  social  intercourse. 
Thus,  the  personal  judgment,   trained  in  the  methods  of  social 


i8         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

rendering,  and  disciplined  by  the  interaction  of  its  social  world, 
projects  its  content  into  that  world  again.  In  other  words,  the 
platform  for  all  movement  into  the  assertion  of  individual  judg- 
ment— the  level  from  which  new  experience  is  utilized — is  already 
and  always  socialized ;  and  it  is  just  this  movement  that  we  find 
reflected  in  the  actual  results  as  the  sense  of  the  *  appropriateness ' 
or  synomic  character  of  the  meaning  rendered. 

"  Now  the  development  of  thought,  as  we  are  to  see  in  more 
detail,  is  by  a  method  essentially  of  trial  and  error,  of  experi- 
mentation, of  the  use  of  meanings  as  worth  more  than  they  are  as 
yet  recognized  to  be  worth.  The  individual  must  use  his  own 
thoughts,  his  established  knowledges,  his  grounded  judgments,  for 
the  embodiment  of  his  new  inventive  constructions.  He  erects 
his  thought  as  we  say  '  schematically  ' — in  logic  terms,  '  prob- 
lematically,' conditionally,  disjunctively;  projecting  into  the 
world  an  opinion  still  peculiar  to  hirnself,  as  if  it  were  true.  Thus 
all  discovery  proceeds.  But  this  is,  from  the  linguistic  point  of 
view,  still  to  use  the  current  language,  still  to  work  by  meanings 
already  embodied  in  social  and  conventional  usage. 

"  Language  grows,  therefore,  just  as  thought  does,  by  never 
losing  its  synomic  or  dual  reference;  its  meaning  is  both  personal 
and  social. 

"  It  is  the  register  of  tradition,  the  record  of  racial  conquest, 
the  deposit  of  all  the  gains  made  by  the  genius  of  individuals 
.  .  .  The  social  copy-system,  thus  established,  reflects  the 
judgmental  processes  of  the  race,  and  in  turn  becomes  the 
training  school  of  the  judgment  of  new  generations. 

"  Most  of  the  training  of  the  self,  whereby  the  vagaries  of 
personal  reaction  to  fact  and  image  are  reduced  to  the  basis  of 
sound  judgment,  comes  through  the  use  of  speech.  When  the 
child  speaks,  he  lays  before  the  world  his  suggestion  for  a  general 
or  common  meaning.  The  reception  he  gets  confirms  or  refutes 
him.  In  either  case  he  is  instructed.  His  next  venture  is  now 
from  a  platform  of  knowledge  on  which  the  newer  item  is  more 
nearly  convertible  into  the  common  coin  of  effective  intercourse. 
The  point  to  notice  here  is  not  so  much  the  exact  mechanism  of 
the  exchange — secondary  conversion — by  which  this  gain  is  made, 


CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING      19 

as  the  training  in  judgment  that  the  constant  use  of  it  affords. 
In  each  case,  effective  judgment  is  the  common  judgment. 

"  Here  the  object  is  to  point  out  that  it  is  secured  by  the 
development  of  a  function  whose  rise  is  directly  ad  hoc,  directly 
for  the  social  experimentation  by  which  growth  in  personal  com- 
petence is  advanced  as  well — the  function  of  speech. 

"  In  language,  therefore,  to  sum  up  the  foregoing,  we  have  the 
tangible — the  actual — the  historical — instrument  of  the  develop- 
ment and  conservation  of  psychic  meaning.  It  is  the  material 
evidence  and  proof  of  the  concurrence  of  social  and  personal  judg- 
ment.  In  it  synomic  meaning,  judged  as  '  appropriate,'  becomes 
'  social '  meaning,  held  as  socially  generalized  and  acknowledged." 


These  arguments  of  Baldwin  abundantly  emphasize 
the  wide-reaching  limitations  of  thinking  caused  by 
language.^"  These  limitations  are  of  the  greatest  signifi- 
cance, both  subjectively  and  objectively;  at  least  their 
meaning  is  great  enough  to  force  one  to  ask  one's  self  if, 
after  all,  in  regard  to  independence  of  thought,  Franz 
Mauthner,  thoroughly  sceptical,  is  not  really  correct  in 
his  view  that  thinking  is  speech  and  nothing  more. 
Baldwin  expresses  himself  more  cautiously  and  reserv- 
edly; nevertheless,  his  inner  meaning  is  plainly  in  favor 
of  the  primacy  of  speech  (naturally  not  in  the  sense  of 
the  spoken  word)  ;  the  directed  thinking,  or  as  we  might 
perhaps  call  it,  the  thinking  in  internal  speech,  is  the 
manifest  instrument  of  culture,  and  we  do  not  go  astray 
when  we  say  that  the  powerful  work  of  education  which 
the  centuries  have  given  to  directed  thinking  has  pro- 
duced, just  through  the  peculiar  development  of  thinking 
from  the  individual  subjective  into  the  social  objective,  a 
practical  application  of  the  human  mind  to  which  we  owe 


20        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

modern  empiricism  and  technic,  and  which  occurs  for  ab- 
solutely the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the  world.  Inquisi- 
tive minds  have  often  tormented  themselves  with  the 
question  why  the  undoubtedly  extraordinary  knowledge 
of  mathematics  and  principles  and  material  facts 
united  with  the  unexampled  art  of  the  human  hand  in 
antiquity  never  arrived  at  the  point  of  developing  those 
known  technical  statements  of  fact,  for  instance,  the 
principles  of  simple  machines,  beyond  the  realm  of  the 
amusing  and  curious  to  a  real  technic  in  the  modern  sense. 
-There  is  necessarily  only  one  answer  to  this;  the  ancients 
almost  entirely,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  extraordinary 
minds,  lacked  the  capacity  to  allow  their  interest  to 
follow  the  transformations  of  inanimate  matter  to  the 
extent  necessary  for  them  to  be  able  to  reproduce  the 
process  of  nature,  creatively  and  through  their  own  art, 
by  means  of  which  alone  they  could  have  succeeded  in 
putting  themselves  in  possession  of  the  force  of  nature. 
That  which  they  lacked  was  training  In  directed  thinking, 
or,  to  express  it  psychoanalytically,  the  ancients  did  not 
succeed  in  tearing  loose  the  libido  which  might  be  subli- 
mated, from  the  other  natural  relations,  and  did  not 
turn  voluntarily  to  anthropomorphism.  The  secret  of 
the  development  of  culture  lies  in  the  moBtliTyof  the 
libido,  and  in  its  capacity  for  transference.  It  is,  there- 
fore, to  be  assumed  that  the  directed  thinking  of  our  time 
is  a  more  or  less  modern  acquisition,  which  was  lacking 
in  earlier  times. 

But  T^ith  that  we  come  to  a  further  question,  viz.,  what 
happen    if  we  do  not  think  directedly?    Then  our  thinking 


CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING      21 

lacks  the  major  idea,  and  the  feeling  of  direction  which 
emanates  from  that/^  We  no  longer  compel  our 
thoughts  along  a  definite  track,  but  let  them  float,  sink 
and  mount  according  to  their  own  gravity.  According 
to  Kulpe  ^*  thinking  is  a  kind  of  inner  will  action,  the 
absence  of  which  necessarily  leads  to  an  automatic  play 
of  ideas.  James  understands  the  non-directed  thinking, 
or  "  merely  associative  "  thinking,  as  the  ordinary  one. 
He  expresses  himself  about  that  in  the  following 
manner: 

"  Our  thought  consists  for  the  great  part  of  a  series  of  images, 
one  of  which  produces  the  other ;  a  sort  of  passive  dream-state  of 
which  the  higher  animals  are  also  capable.  This  sort  of  thinking 
leads,  nevertheless,  to  reasonable  conclusions  of  a  practical  as  well 
as  of  a  theoretical  nature.  ^  ^^       \ 

"  As  a  rule,   the  links  of   this  sort  of   irresponsible  thinking,^ 
which  are  accidentally  bound  together,  are  empirically  concrete^ 
things,  not  abstractions." 

We  can,  in  the  following  manner,  complete  these  defi- 
nitions of  William  James.  This  sort  of  thinking  does 
not  tire  us;  it  quickly  leads  us  away  from  reality  mto 
phantasies  of  the  past  and  future.  Here,  thinking  In" 
form  of  speech  ceases,  image  crowds  upon  image,  feel- 
ing upon  feeling;  more  and  more  clearly  one  sees  a 
tendency  which  creates  and  makes  believe,  not  as  it  truly 
is,  but  as  one  indeed  might  wish  it  to  be.^^  The  material 
of  these  thoughts  which  turns  away  from  reality,  can 
naturally  be  only  the  past  with  its  thousand  memory  pic- 
tures. The  customary  speech  calls  this  kind  of  thinking 
"  dreaming."  .-^ 


22         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Whoever  attentively  observes  himself  will  find  the 
general  custom  of  speech  very  striking,  for  almost  every 
day  we  can  see  for  ourselves  how,  when  falling  asleep, 
phantasies  are  woven  into  our  dreams,  so  that  between 
the  dreams  of  day  :and  night  there  is  not  so  great  a 
difference.  Thus  we  have  two  forms  of  thinking — 
directed  thinking  and  dream  or  phantasy  thinking.  The 
first,  working  for  communication  with  speech  elements, 
is  troublesome  and  exhausting;  the  latter,  on  the  contrary, 
goes  on  without  trouble,  working  spontaneously,  so  to 
speak,  with  reminiscences.  The  first  creates  innovations, 
adaptations,  imitates  reality  and  seeks  to  act  upon  it. 
The  latter,  on  the  contrary,  turns  away  from  reality,  sets 
free  subjective  wishes,  and  is,  in  regard  to  adaptation, 
[wholly  unproductive.^^ 

Let  us  leave  aside  the  query  as  to  why  we  possess  these 
two  different  ways  of  thinking,  and  turn  back  to  the 
second  proposition,  namely,  how  comes  it  that  we  have 
two  different  ways  of  thinking?  I  have  intimated  above 
that  history  shows  us  that  directed  thinking  was  not 
always  as  developed  as  it  is  at  present.  In  this  age  the 
most  beautiful  expression  of  directed  thinking  is  science, 
and  the  technic  fostered  by  it.  Both  things  are  indebted 
for  their  existence  simply  to  an  energetic  education  in 
directed  thinking.  At  the  time,  however,  when  a  few 
forerunners  of  the  present  culture,  like  the  poet  Petrarch, 
first  began  to  appreciate  Nature  understandingly  "  there 
was  already  in  existence  an  equivalent  for  our  science,  to 
wit,  scholasticism.^^  This  took  its  objects  from  the  phan- 
tasies of  the  past,  and  it  gave  to  the  mind  a  dialectic 


CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING      23 

training  In  directed  thinking.  The  only  success  which 
beckoned  the  thinker  was  rhetorical  victory  In  disputa- 
tion, and  not  a  visible  transformation  of  reality. 

The  subjects  of  thinking  were  often  astonishingly 
phantastlcal;  for  example,  questions  were  discussed,  such 
as  how  many  angels  could  have  a  place  on  the  point  of 
a  needle?  Whether  Christ  could  have  done  his  work 
of  redemption  equally  well  if  he  had  come  Into  the 
world  as  a  pea?  The  possibility  of  such  problems,  to 
which  belong  the  metaphysical  problems  in  general,  viz., 
to  be  able  to  know  the  unknowable,  shows  us  of  what 
peculiar  kind  that  mind  must  have  been  which  created 
such  things  which  to  us  are  the  height  of  absurdity. 
Nietzsche  had  guessed,  however,  at  the  biological  back- 
ground of  this  phenomenon  when  he  spoke  of  the  "  beau- 
tiful tension  "  of  the  Germanic  mind  which  the  Middle 
Ages  created.  Taken  historically,  scholasticism,  in  the 
spirit  of  which  persons  of  towering  Intellectual  powers, 
such  as  Thomas  of  Aquinas,  Duns  Scotus,  Abelard,  Wil- 
liam of  Occam  and  others,  have  labored,  is  the  mother  of 
the  modern  scientific  attitude,  and  a  later  time  will  see 
clearly  how  and  In  what  scholasticism  still  furnishes 
living  undercurrents  to  the  science  of  today.  Its  whole 
nature  lies  in  dialectic  gymnastics  which  have  raised  the 
symbol  of  speech,  the  word,  to  an  almost  absolute  mean- 
ing, so  that  it  finally  attained  to  that  substantiality  which 
expiring  antiquity  could  lend  to  its  logos  only  temporarily, 
through  attributes  of  mystical  valuation.  The  great 
work  of  scholasticism,  however,  appears  to  be  the  founda- 
tion of  firmly  knitted  intellectual  sublimation,  the  conditio 


24         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

sine  qua  non  of  the  modern  scientific  and  technical 
spirit. 

Should  we  go  further  back  into  history,  we  shall  find 
that  which  today  we  call  science,  dissolved  into  an  indis- 
tinct cloud.  The  modern  culture-creating  mind  is  inces- 
santly occupied  in  stripping  off  all  subjectivity  from  ex- 
perience, and  in  finding  those  formulas  which  bring 
Nature  and  her  forces  to  the  best  and  most  fitting  expres- 
sion. It  would  be  an  absurd  and  entirely  unjustified  self- 
lorification  if  we  were  to  assume  that  we  are  more 
energetic  or  more  intelligent  than  the  ancients — our 
materials  for  knowledge  have  increased,  but  not  our  in- 
tellectual capacity.  For  this  reason,  we  become  imme- 
diately as  obstinate  and  insusceptible  in  regard  to  new 
ideas  as  people  in  the  darkest  times  of  antiquity.  Our 
knowledge  has  increased  but  not  our  wisdom.  Th^  main 
point  of  our  interest  is  displaced  wholly  into  material 
reality;  antiquity  preferred  a  mode  of  thought  which  was 
ore  closely  related  to  a  phantastic  type.  Except  for  a 
sensitive  perspicuity  towards  works  of  art,  not  attained 
since  then,  we  seek  in  vain  in  antiquity  for  that  precise 
and  concrete  manner  of  thinking  characteristic  of  modern 
science.  We  see  the  antique  spirit  create  not  science  but 
mythology.  Unfortunately,  we  acquire  in  school  only 
a  very  paltry  conception  of  the  richness  and  immense 
power  of  life  of  Grecian  mythology. 

Therefore,  at  first  glance,  it  does  not  seem  possible  for 
us  to  assume  that  that  energy  and  interest  which  today 
we  put  into  science  and  technic,  the  man  of  antiquity  gave 
In  great  part  to  his  mythology.    That,  nevertheless,  gives 


CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING      25 

the  explanation  for  the  bewildering  changes,  the  kaleido- 
scopic transformations  and  new  syncretistic  groupings, 
and  the  continued  rejuvenation  of  the  myths  in  the 
Grecian  sphere  of  culture.  Here,  we  move  in  a  world 
of  phantasies,  which,  little  concerned  with  the  outer 
course  of  things,  flows  from  an  inner  source,  and,  con- 
stantly changing,  creates  now  plastic,  now  shadowy 
shapes.  This  phantastical  activity  of  the  ancient  mind 
created  artistically  par  excellence.  The  object  of  the  in- 
terest does  not  seem  to  have  been  to  grasp  hold  of  the 
"  how  "  of  the  real  world  as  objectively  and  exactly  as 
possibly,  but  to  aesthetically  adapt  subjective  phantasies 
and  expectations.  There  was  very  little  place  among 
ancient  people  for  the  coldness  and  disillusion  which 
Giordano  Bruno's  thoughts  on  eternity  and  Kepler's  dis- 
coveries brought  to  modern  humanity.  The  naive  man 
of  antiquity  saw  in  the  sun  the  great  Father  of  the  heaven 
and  the  earth,  and  in  the  moon  the  fruitful  good  Mother. 
Everything  had  its  demons;  they  animated  equally  a 
human  being  and  his  brother,  the  animal.  Everything 
was  considered  according  to  its  anthropomorphic  or 
theriomorphic  attributes,  as  human  being  or  animal. 
Even  the  disc  of  the  sun  was  given  wings  or  four  feet, 
in  order  to  illustrate  its  movement.  Thus  arose  an  idea 
of  the  universe  which  was  not  only  very  far  from  reality, 
but  was  one  which  corresponded  wholly  to  subjective 
phantasies. 

We  know,  from  our  own  experience,  this  state  of  mind. 
It  is  an  infantile  stage.  To  a  child  the  moon  is  a  man  or 
a  face  or  a  shepherd  of  the  stars.    The  clouds  in  the  sky 


26         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 


seem  like  little  sheep;  the  dolls  drink,  eat  and  sleep;  the 
child  places  a  letter  at  the  window  for  the  Christ-child; 
he  calls  to  the  stork  to  bring  him  a  little  brother  or 
sister;  the  cow  is  the  wife  of  the  horse,  and  the  dog  the 
husband  of  the  cat.  We  know,  too,  that  lower  races,  like 
the  negroes,  look  upon  the  locomotive  as  an  animal,  and 
call  the  drawers  of  the  table  the  child  of  the  table. 

As  we  learn  through  Freud,  the  dream  shows  a  similar 
type.  Since  the  dream  is  unconcerned  with  the  real  condi- 
tion of  things,  it  brings  the  most  heterogeneous  matter 
together,  and  a  world  of  impossibilities  takes  the  place 
,:)f  realities.  Freud  finds  progression  characteristic  of  ^ 
thinking  when  awake ;  that  is  to  say,  the  advancement  of 
the  thought  excitation  from  the  system  of  the  inner  or 
outer  perception  through  the  "  endopsychic "  work  of 
association,  conscious  and  unconscious,  to  the  motor  end; 
that  is  to  say,  towards  innervation.  In  the  dream  he  finds 
the  reverse,  namely,  regression  of  the  thought  excitation 
from  the  pre-conscious  or  unconscious  to  the  system  of 
perception,  by  the  means  of  which  the  dream  receives 
its  ordinary  impression  of  sensuous  distinctness,  which 
can  rise  to  an  almost  hallucinating  clearness.  Xhe  dream 
thinking  moves  in  a  retrograde  manner  towards  the  raw 
material  of  memory.  "  The  structure  of  the  dream 
thoughts  is  dissolved  during  the  progress  of  regression 
into  its  raw  material."  The  reanimation  of  the  original 
perception  is,  however,  only  one  side  of  regression.  The 
other  side  is  regression  to  the  infantile  memory  material, 
which  might  also  be  understood  as  regression  to  the 
original  perception,  but  which  deserves  especial  mention 


CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING      27 

on  account  of  its  Independent  Importance.  This  regres- 
sion might,  Indeed,  be  considered  as  "  historical."  The 
dream,  according  to  this  conception,  might  also  be  de- 
scribed as  the  substitute  of  the  infantile  scene,  changed 
through  transference  into  the  recent  scene. 

The  infantile  scene  cannot  carry  through  Its  revival; 
it  must  be  satisfied  with  Its  return  as  a  dream.  From 
this  conception  of  the  historical  side  of  regression,  It  fol- 
lows consequently  that  the  modes  of  conclusion  of  the 
dream,  In  so  far  as  one  may  speak  of  them,  must  show 
at  the  same  time  an  analogous  and  Infantile  character. 
This  Is  truly  the  case,  as  experience  has  abundantly 
shown,  so  that  today  every  one  who  is  familiar  with  the 
subject  of  dream  analysis  confirrm  Freud's  proposition 
that  dreams  are_ja^iece  of  the  cortqttet^d  life  of  the 
childish  soul.     Inasmuch  as  the   childish  psychic  life   Is 


undeniably  of  an  archaic  type,  this  characteristic  belongs 
to  the  dream  in  quite  an  unusual  degree.  Freud  calls  our 
attention  to  this  especially.  ^^  \ 

"  The  dream,  which  fulfils  its  wishes  by  a  short,  regressive 
path,  affords  us  only  an  example  of  the  primary  method  of  work- 
ing of  the  psychic  apparatus,  which  has  been  abandoned  by  us  as 
unsuitable.  That  which  once  ruled  in  the  waking  state,  when  the 
psychical  life  was  still  young  and  impotent,  appears  to  be  banished 
to  the  dream  life,  in  somewhat  the  same  way  as  the  bow  and 
arrow,  those  discarded,  primitive  weapons  of  adult  humanity,  have 
been  relegated  to  the  nursery."  ^^ 

All  this  experience  suggests  to  us  that  we  draw  a 
parallel  between  the  phantastical,  mythological  thinking 
of  antiquity  and  the  similar  thinking  of  children,  between 


28         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

the  lower  human  races  and  dreams.""  This  train  of 
thought  is  not  a  strange  one  for  us,  but  quite  familiar 
through  our  knowledge  of  comparative  anatomy  and  the 
history  of  development,  which  show  us  how  the  structure 
and  function  of  the  human  body  are  the  results  of  a  series 
of  embryonic  changes  which  correspond  to  similar 
changes  in  the  history  of  the  race.  Therefore,  the  sup- 
position is  justified  that  ontogenesis  corresponds  in 
psychology  to  phylogenesis.  Consequently,  it  would 
be  true,  as  well,  that  the  state  of  infantile  thinking  in  the 
child's  psychic  life,  as  well  as  in  dreams,  is  nothing  but  a 
re-echo  of  the  prehistoric  and  the  ancient."^ 

In  regard  to  this,  Nietzsche  takes  a  very  broad  and  re- 
markable standpoint."^ 

"  In  our  sleep  and  in  our  dreams  we  pass  through  the  whole 
thought  of  earlier  humanity.     I  mean,  in  the  same  way  that  man 
reasons  in  his  dreams,  he  reasoned  when  in  the  waking  state  many 
thousands  of  years.    The  first  cousa  which  occurred  to  his  mind  in 
reference  to  anything  that  needed  explanation,  satisfied  him  and 
passed  for  truth.     In  the  dream  this  atavistic  relic  of  humanity 
manifests  its  existence  within  us,   for  it  is  the  foundation  upon 
which  the  higher  rational   faculty  developed,   and  which   is  still 
developing  in  every  individual.     The  dream  carries  us  back  into 
earlier  states  of  human  culture,  an"3"af?ords  us  a  means  of  under- 
standing it  better.     The  dream   thought  is  so  easy  to  us  now, 
because  we  are  so  thoroughly  trained  to  it  through  the  interminable 
stages  of  evolution  during  which  this  phantastic  and  facile  form 
^•of  theorizing  has  prevailed.     To  a  certain  extent  the  dream  is 
I     a  restorative  for  the  brain,  which  during  the  day  is  called  upon 
/     to  meet  the  severe  demands  for  trained  thought,  made  by  the 
I     conditions  of  a  higher  civilization. 

'  "'  From  these  facts,  we  can  understand  how  lately  more  acute 
logical  thinking,  the  taking  seriously  of  cause  and  effect,  has  been 


CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING      29 

developed ;  when  our  functions  of  reason  and  intelligence  still  reach 
back  involuntarily  to  those  primitive  forms  of  conclusion,  and  we 
live  about  half  our  lives  in  this  condition." 

We  have  already  seen  that  Freud,  independently  of 
Nietzsche,  has  reached  a  similar  standpoint  from  the 
basis  of  dream  analysis.  The  step  from  this  established 
proposition  to  the  perception  of  the  myths  as  familiar 
dream  Images  is  no  longer  a  great  one.  Freud  has  formu- 
lated this  conclusion  himself.-^ 

"  The  investigation  of  this  folk-psychologic  formation,  myths, 
etc.,  is  by  no  means  finished  at  present.  To  take  an  example  of 
this,  however,  it  is  probable  that  the  myths  correspond  to  the 
distorted  residue  of  wish  phantasies  of  whole  nations,  the  secular- 
ized dreams  of  young  humanity." 

Rank  "*  understands  the  myths  in  a  similiar  manner,  as 
a  mass  dream  of  the  people. ^^  Riklin  -"  has  insisted 
rightly  upon  the  dream  mechanism  of  the  fables,  and 
Abraham"  has  done  the  same  for  the  myths.     He  says: 

"  The  myth  is  a  fragment  of  the  infantile  soul-life  of  the  people." 

and 

"  Thus  the  myth  is  a  sustained,  still  remaining  fragment  from 
the  infantile  soul-life  of  the  people,  and  the  dream  is  the  myth 
of  the  individual." 

An  unprejudiced  reading  of  the  above-mentioned 
authors  will  certainly  allay  all  doubts  concerning  the 
intimate  connection  between  dream  psychology  and  myth 
psychology.  The  conclusion  results  almost  from  itself, 
that  the  age  which  created  the  myths  thought  childishly — 


30         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

that  Is  to  say,  phantastically,  as  in  our  age  is  still  done, 
to  a  very  great  extent  (associatlvely  or  analogically)  in 
dreams.  The  beginnings  of  myth  formations  (in  the 
child),  the  taking  of  phantasies  for  realities,  which  is 
partly  in  accord  with  the  historical,  may  easily  be  dis- 
covered among  children. 

One  might  raise  the  objection  that  the  mythological 
inclinations  of  children  are  implanted  by  education.  The 
objection  is  futile.  Has  humanity  at  all  ever  broken 
loose  from  the  myths?  Every  man  has  eyes  and  all  his 
senses  to  perceive  that  the  world  is  dead,  cold  and  un- 
ending, and  he  has  never  yet  seen  a  God,  nor  brought  to 
light  the  existence  of  such  from  empirical  necessity.  On 
the  contrary,  there  was  need  of  a  phantastic,  indestruc- 
tible optimism,  and  one  far  removed  from  all  sense  of 
reality,  in  order,  for  example,  to  discover  in  the  shameful 
death  of  Christ  really  the  highest  salvation  and  the  re- 
demption of  the  world.  Thus  one  can  indeed  withhold 
from  a  child  the  substance  of  earlier  myths  but  not  take 
from  him  the  need  for  mythology.  One  can  say,  that 
should  It  happen  that  all  traditions  in  the  world  were  cut 
off  with  a  single  blow,  then  with  the  succeeding  genera- 
tion, the  whole  mythology  and  history  of  religion  would 
start  over  again.  Only  a  few  individuals  succeed  in 
throwing  off  mythology  in  a  time  of  a  certain  intellectual 
supremacy — the  mass  never  frees  itself.  Explanations 
are  of  no  avail;  they  merely  destroy  a  transitory  form 
of  manifestation,  but  not  the  creating  impulse. 

Let  us  again  take  up  our  earlier  train  of  thought. 

We  spoke   of  the  ontogenetic  re-echo  of  the   phylo- 


CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING      31 

genetic  psychology  among  children,  we  saw  that  phan- 
tastic  thinking  is  a  characteristic  of  antiquity,  of  the  child, 
and  of  the  lower  races ;  but  now  we  know  also  that  our 
modern  and  adult  man  is  given  over  in  large  part  to 
this  same  phantastic  thinking,  v.'hich  enters  as  soon  as  the 
directed  thinking  ceases.  A  lessening  of  the  interest,  a 
slight  fatigue,  is  sufficient  to  put  an  end  to  the  directed 
thinking,  the  exact  psychological  adaptation  to  the  real 
world,  and  to  replace  it  with  phantasies.  We  digress 
from  the  theme  and  give  way  to  our  own  trains  of 
thought;  if  the  slackening  of  the  attention  increases,  then 
we  lose  by  degrees  the  consciousness  of  the  present,  and 
the  phantasy  enters  into  possession  of  the  field. 

Here  the  important  question  obtrudes  itself:  How  are 
phantasies  created?  From  the  poets  we  learn  much  about 
it;  from  science  we  learn  little.  The  psychoanalytic 
method,  presented  to  science  by  Freud,  shed  light  upon 
this  for  the  first  time.  It  showed  us  that  there  are 
typical  cycles.  The  stutterer  imagines  he  is  a  great 
orator.  The  truth  of  this,  Demosthenes,  thanks  to  his 
energy,  has  proven.  The  poor  man  imagines  himself  to 
be  a  millionaire,  the  child  an  adult.  The  conquered  fight 
out  victorious  battles  with  the  conquerer;  the  unfit  tor- 
ments or  delights  himself  with  ambitious  plans.  W^e 
imagine  that  which  we  lack.  The  interesting  question  of 
the  "  why  "  of  all  this  we  must  here  leave  unanswered, 
while  we  return  to  the  historic  problem:  From  what 
source  do  the  phantasies  draw  their  materials?"^  We 
chose,  as  an  example,  a  typical  phantasy  of  puberty.  A 
child  in  that  stage  before  whom  the  whole  frightening 


32         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

uncertainty  of  the  future  fate  opens,  puts  back  the  uncer- 
tainty into  the  past,  through  his  phantasy,  and  says,  "  If 
only  I  were  not  the  child  of  my  ordinary  parents,  but 
the  child  of  a  rich  and  fashionable  count,  and  had  been 
merely  passed  over  to  my  parents,  then  some  day  a  golden 
coach  would  come,  and  the  count  would  take  his  child 
back  with  him  to  his  wonderful  castle,"  and  so  it  goes 
on,  as  in  Grimm's  Fairy  Tales  which  the  mother  tells  to 
her  children.-''  With  a  normal  child,  it  stops  with  the 
fugitive,  quickly-passing  idea  which  is  soon  covered  over 
and  forgotten.  However,  at  one  time,  and  that  was  in 
the  ancient  world  of  culture,  the  phantasy  was  an  openly 
acknowledged  institution.  The  heroes, — I  recall  Romu- 
lus and  Remus,  Semiramis,  Moses  and  many  others, — 
have  been  separated  from  their  real  parents.^"  Others 
are  directly  sons  of  gods,  and  the  noble  races  derive  their 
family  trees  from  heroes  and  gods.  As  one  sees  by  this 
example,  the  phantasy  of  modern  humanity  is  nothing  but 
a  re-echo  of  an  old-folk-belief,  which  was  very  wide- 
spread orlginally.^^  The  ambitious  phantasy  chooses, 
among  others,  a  form  which  is  classic,  and  which  once 
had  a  true  meaning.  The  same  thing  holds  good  in 
regard  to  the  sexual  phantasy.  In  the  preamble  we  have 
spoken  of  dreams  of  sexual  assault:  the  robber  who 
breaks  into  the  house  and  commits  a  dangerous  act. 
That,  too,  is  a  mythological  theme,  and  in  the  prehistoric 
era  was  certainly  a  reality  too.^^  Wholly  apart  from  the 
fact  that  the  capture  of  women  was  something  general 
in  the  lawless  prehistoric  times,  it  was  also  a  subject  of 
mythology  In  cultivated  epochs.     I  recall  the  capture  of 


\       CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING      33 

Proserpina,  Deianira,  Europa,  the  Sabine  women,  etc. 
We  must  not  forget  that,  even  today,  marriage  customs 
exist  in  various  regions  which  recall  the  ancient  custom 
of  marriage  by  capture. 

The  symbolism  of  the  instrument  of  coitus  was  an  in- 
exhaustible material  for  ancient  phantasy.  It  furnished 
a  widespread  cult  that  was  designated  phallic,  the  object 
of  reverence  of  which  was  the  phallus.  The  companion 
of  Dionysus  was  Phales,  a  personification  of  the  phallus 
proceeding  from  the  phallic  Herme  of  Dionysus.  The 
phallic  symbols  were  countless.  Among  the  Sabines,  the 
custom  existed  for  the  bridegroom  to  part  the  bride's 
hair  with  a  lance.  The  bird,  the  fish  and  the  snake  were 
phallic  symbols.  In  addition,  there  existed  in  enormous 
quantities  theriomorphic  representations  of  the  sexual 
instinct,  in  connection  with  which  the  bull,  the  he-goat, 
the  ram,  the  boar  and  the  ass  were  frequently  used.  An 
undercurrent  to  this  choice  of  symbol  was  furnished  by 
the  sodomitic  inclination  of  humanity.  When  in  the ' 
dream  phantasy  of  modern  man,  the  feared  man  is  re- 
placed by  an  animal,  there  is  recurring  in  the  ontogenetic 
re-echo  the  same  thing  which  was  openly  represented  by 
the  ancients  countless  times.  There  were  he-goats  which 
pursued  nymphs,  satyrs  with  she-goats;  in  still  older  times 
in  Egypt  there  even  existed  a  shrine  of  a  goat  god,  which 
the  Greeks  called  Pan,  where  the  Hierodules  prostituted" 
themselves  with  goats. '^^  It  is  well  known  that  this  wor- 
ship has  not  died  out,  but  continues  to  live  as  a  special 
custom  in  South  Italy  and  Greece.^* 

Today  we  feel  for  such  a  thing  nothing  but  the  deepest 


34         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

abhorrence,  and  never  would  admit  it  still  slumbered  in 
our  souls.  Nevertheless,  just  as  truly  as  the  idea  of  the 
sexual  assault  is  there,  so  are  these  things  there  too ;  vv^hich 
we  should  contemplate  still  more  closely, — not  through 
moral  eye-glasses,  with  horror,  but  with  interest  as  a 
natural  science,  since  these  things  are  venerable  relics  of 
past  culture  periods.  We  have,  even  today,  a  clause  in 
our  penal  code  against  sodomy.  But  that  which  was  once 
so  strong  as  to  give  rise  to  a  worship  among  a  highly 
developed  people  has  probably  not  wholly  disappeared 
from  the  human  soul  during  the  course  of  a  few  genera- 
tions. We  may  not  forget  that  since  the  symposium  of 
Plato,  in  which  homo-sexuality  faces  us  on  the  same  level 
with  the  so-called  "  normal  sexuality,"  only  eighty  gen- 
erations have  passed.  And  what  are  eighty  generations? 
They  shrink  to  an  imperceptible  period  of  time  when 
compared  with  the  space  of  time  which  separates  us  from 
the  homo-Neandertalensis  or  Heidelbergensis.  I  might 
call  to  mind,  in  this  connection,  some  choice  thoughts  of 
the  great  historian  Guglielmo  Ferrero :  ^^ 

"  It  is  a  very  common  belief  that  the  further  man  is  separated 
from  the  present  by  time,  the  more  does  he  differ  from  us  in  his 
thoughts  and  feelings;  that  the  psychology  of  humanity  changes 
from  century  to  century,  like  fashions  of  literature.  Therefore,  no 
sooner  do  we  find  in  past  history  an  institution,  a  custom,  a  law 
or  a  belief  a  little  different  from  those  with  which  we  are  familiar, 
than  we  immediately  search  for  some  complex  meanings,  which 
fre.  uently  resolve  themselves  into  phrases  of  doubtful  significance. 

"Indeed,  man  does  not  change  so  quickly;  his  psychology  at 
bottom  remains  the  same,  and  even  if  his  culture  varies  much  from 
one  epoch  to  another,  it  does  not  change  the  functioning  of  his 
mind.     The  fundamental  laws  of  the  mind  remain  the  same,  at 


CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING      35 

least  during  the  short  historical  period  of  which  we  have  knowl- 
edge, and  all  phenomena,  even  the  most  strange,  must  be  capable 
of  explanation  by  those  common  laws  of  the  mind  which  we  can 
recognize  in  ourselves." 

The  psychologist  should  accept  this  viewpoint  without 
reservation  as  peculiarly  applicable  to  himself.  Today, 
indeed,  in  our  civilization  the  phallic  processions,  the 
Dionysian  mysteries  of  classical  Athens,  the  barefaced 
Phallic  emblems,  have  disappeared  from  our  coins, 
houses,  temples  and  streets;  so  also  have  the  theriomor- 
phic  representations  of  the  Deity  been  reduced  to  small 
remnants,  like  the  Dove  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Lamb  of 
God  and  the  Cock  of  Peter  adorning  our  church  towers. 
In  the  same  way,  the  capture  and  violation  of  women 
have  shrunken  away  to  crimes.  Yet  all  of  this  does  not 
affect  the  fact  that  we,  in  childhood,  go  through  a  period 
in  which  the  impulses  toward  these  archaic  inclinations 
appear  again  and  again,  and  that  through  all  our  life  we 
possess,  side  by  side  with  the  newly  recruited,  directed 
and  adapted  thought,  a  phantastic  thought  which  corre- 
sponds to  the  thought  of  the  centuries  of  antiquity  and 
barbarism.  Just  as  our  bodies  still  keep  the  reminders 
of  old  functions  and  conditions  in  many  old-fashioned 
organs,  so  our  minds,  too,  which  apparently  have  out- 
grown those  archaic  tendencies,  nevertheless  bear  the 
marks  of  the  evolution  passed  through,  and  the  very 
ancient  re-echoes,   at  least  dreamily,   in  phantasies.    •' 

The  symbolism  which  Freud  has  discovered,  is  re- 
vealed as  an  expression  of  a  thinking  and  of  an  impulse 
limited  to  the  dream,  to  wrong  conduct,  and  to  derange- 


36         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

ments  of  the  mind,  which  form  of  thinking  and  impulse  at 
one  time  ruled  as  the  mightiest  influence  in  past  culture 
epochs. 

The  question  of  whence  comes  the  inclination  and 
ability  which  enables  the  mind  to  express  itself 
symbolically,  brings  us  to  the  distinction  between  the 
two  kinds  of  thinking — the  directed  and  adapted  on 
one  hand,  and  the  subjective,  fed  by  our  own  egotistic 
wishes,  on  the  other.  The  latter  form  of  thinking, 
presupposing  that  it  were  not  constantly  corrected 
by  the  adapted  thinking,  must  necessarily  produce  an 
overwhelmingly  subjectively  distorted  idea  of  the  world. 
We  regard  this  state  of  mind  as  infantile.  It  lies  in  our 
individual  past,  and  in  the  past  of  mankind. 
\  With  this  we  affirm  the  important  fact  that  man  in  his 
)hantastic  thinking  has  kept  a  condensation  of  the  psychic 
history  of  his  development.  An  extraordinarily  impor- 
tant task,  which  even  today  is  hardly  possible,  is  to  give  a 
systematic  description  of  phantastic  thinking.  One  may, 
at  the  most,  sketch  it.  While  directed  thinking  is  a  phe- 
nomenon conscious  throughout,^^  the  same  cannot  be  as-  i 
serted  of  phantastic  thinking.  Doubtless,  a  great  part  of  , 
it  still  falls  entirely  in  the  realm  of  the  conscious,  but, 
at  least,  just  as  much  goes  along,  in  half  shadows,  and 
generally  an  undetermined  amount  in  the  unconscious;  j 
and  this  can,  therefore,  be  disclosed  only  indirectly."  By 
means  of  phantastic  thinking,  directed  thinking  is  con-  ' 
nected  with  the  oldest  foundations  of  the  human  mind, 
which  have  been  for  a  long  time  beneath  the  threshold 
of  the  consciousness.     The  products  of  this  phantastic 


t 

CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING      37 

thinking  arising  directly  from  the  consciousness  are, 
first,  waking  dreams,  or  day-dreams,  to  which  Freud, 
Flournoy,  Pick  and  others  have  given  special  attention; 
then  the  dreams  which  offer  to  the  consciousness,  at  first, 
a  mysterious  exterior,  and  win  meaning  only  through  the 
indirectly  inferred  unconscious  contents.  Lastly,  there  is 
a  so-called  wholly  unconscious  phantasy  system  in  the 
split-off  complex,  which  exhibits  a  pronounced  tend- 
ency towards  the  production  of  a  dissociated  person- 
ality.^' 

Our  foregoing  explanations  show  wherein  the  products 
arising  from  the  unconscious  are  related  to  the  mythical. 
From  all  these  signs  it  may  be  concluded  that  the  soul 
possesses  in  some  degree  historical  strata,  the  oldest 
stratum  of  which  would  correspond  to  the  unconscious. 
The  result  of  that  must  be  that  an  introversion  occurring 
in  later  life,  according  to  the  Freudian  teaching,  seizes 
upon  regressive  infantile  reminiscences  taken  from  the 
individual  past.  That  first  points  out  the  way;  then,  with 
stronger  introversion  and  regression  (strong  repressions, 
introversion  psychoses),  there  come  to  light  pronounced 
traits  of  an  archaic  mental  kind  which,  under  certain  cir- 
cumstances, might  go  as  far  as  the  re-echo  of  a  once 
manifest,  archaic  mental  product. 

This  problem  deserves  to  be  more  thoroughly  dis- 
cussed. As  a  concrete  example,  let  us  take  the  history  of 
the  pious  Abbe  Oegger  which  Anatole  France  has  com- 
municated to  us.^^  This  priest  was  a  hypercritical  man, 
and  much  given  to  phantasies,  especially  in  regard  to 
one  question,  viz.,  the  fate  of  Judas;  whether  he  was 


I 


38         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

really  damned,  as  the  teaching  of  the  church  asserts,  to 
everlasting  punishment,  or  whether  God  had  pardoned 
him  after  all.  Oegger  sided  with  the  intelligent  point  of 
view  that  God,  in  his  all-wisdom,  had  chosen  Judas  as 
an  instrument,  in  order  to  bring  about  the  highest  point 
of  the  work  of  redemption  by  Christ.*"  This  necessary 
instrument,  without  the  help  of  which  the  human  race 
would  not  have  been  a  sharer  in  salvation,  could  not 
possibly  be  damned  by  the  all-good  God.  In  order  to 
put  an  end  to  his  doubts,  Oegger  went  one  night  to  the 
church,  and  made  supplication  for  a  sign  that  Judas  was 
saved.  Then  he  felt  a  heavenly  touch  upon  his  shoulder. 
Following  this,  Oegger  told  the  Archbishop  of  his  reso- 
lution to  go  out  into  the  world  to  preach  God's  unending 
mercy. 

Here  we  have  a  richly  developed  phantasy  system  be- 
fore us.  It  is  concerned  with  the  subtle  and  perpetually 
undecided  question  as  to  whether  the  legendary  figure  of 
Judas  is  damned  or  not.  The  Judas  legend  is,  in  itself, 
mythical  material,  viz.,  the  malicious  betrayal  of  a  hero. 
I  recall  Siegfried  and  Hagen,  Balder  and  Loki.  Siegfried 
and  Balder  were  murdered  by  a  faithless  traitor  from 
among  their  closest  associates.  This  myth  is  moving  and 
tragic — it  is  not  honorable  battle  which  kills  the  noble, 
but  evil  treachery.  It  is,  too,  an  occurrence  which  is  his- 
torical over  and  over  again.  One  thinks  of  Caesar  and 
Brutus.  Since  the  myth  of  such  a  deed  is  very  old,  and 
still  the  subject  of  teaching  and  repetition,  it  is  the 
expression  of  a  psychological  fact,  that  env^  does  not 
allow  humanity  to  sleep,  and  that  all  of  us  carry.  In  a 


CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING      39 

hidden  recess  of  our  heart,  a  deadly  wish  towards  the 
hero.  This  rule  can  be  applied  generally  to  mythical 
tradition.  It  does  not  set  forth  any  account  of  the  old 
events,  but  rather  acts  in  such  a  zvay  that  it  always  reveals 
a  thought  common  to  humanity,  and  once  more  rejuve- 
nated. Thus,  for  example,  the  lives  and  deeds  of  the 
founders  of  old  religions  are  the  purest  condensations 
of  typical,  contemporaneous  myths,  behind  which  the 
individual  figure  entirely  disappears.*^ 

But  why  does  our  pious  Abbe  torment  himself  with  the 
old  Judas  legend?  He  first  went  into  the  world  to  preach 
the  gospel  of  mercy,  and  then,  after  some  time,  he 
separated  from  the  Catholic  church  and  became  a  Sweden- 
borglan.  Now  we  understand  his  Judas  phantasy.  He 
was  the  Judas  who  betrayed  his  Lord.  Therefore,  first 
of  all,  he  had  to  make  sure  of  the  divine  mercy,  in  order 
to  be  Judas  in  peace. 

This  case  throws  a  light  upon  the  mechanism  of  the 
phantasies  in  general.  The  known,  conscious  phantasy 
may  be  of  mythical  or  other  material ;  it  is  not  to  be  taken 
seriously  as  such,  for  It  has  an  indirect  meaning.  If  we 
take  it,  however,  as  important  per  se,  then  the  thing  Is 
not  understandable,  and  makes  one  despair  of  the  effi- 
ciency of  the  mind.  But  we  saw,  in  the  case  of  Abbe 
Oegger,  that  his  doubts  and  his  hopes  did  not  turn  upon 
the  historical  problem  of  Judas,  but  upon  his  own  per- 
sonality, which  wished  to  win  a  way  to  freedom  for  itself 
through  the  solution  of  the  Judas  problem. 

The  conscious  phantasies  tell  us  of  mythical  or  other 
material  of  undeveloped  or  no  longer  recognized  wish 


40        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

tendencies  in  the  soul.  As  is  easily  to  be  understood,  an 
innate  tendency,  an  acknowledgment  of  which  one  re- 
fuses to  make,  and  which  one  treats  as  non-existent,  can 
hardly  contain  a  thing  that  may  be  in  accord  with  our 
conscious  character.  It  concerns  the  tendencies  which  are 
considered  immoral,  and  as  generally  impossible,  and  the 
strongest  resentment  is  felt  towards  bringing  them  into 
the  consciousness.  What  would  Oegger  have  said  had 
he  been  told  confidentially  that  he  was  preparing  himself 
for  the  Judas  role?  And  what  in  ourselves  do  we  con- 
sider immoral  and  non-existent,  or  which  we  at  least  wish 
were  non-existent?  It  is  that  which  in  antiquity  lay  wide- 
spread on  the  surface,  viz.,  sexuality  in  all  its  various 
manifestations.  Therefore,  we  need  not  wonder  in  the 
least  when  we  find  this  at  the  base  of  most  of  our  phan- 
tasies, even  if  the  phantasies  have  a  different  appearance. 
Because  Oegger  found  the  damnation  of  Judas  incom- 
patible with  God's  goodness,  he  thought  about  the  con- 
flict in  that  way;  that  is  the  conscious  sequence.  Along 
with  this  is  the  unconscious  sequence;  because  Oegger 
himself  wished  to  be  a  Judas,  he  first  made  sure  of  the 
goodness  of  God.  To  Oegger,  Judas  was  the  symbol 
of  his  own  unconscious  tendency,  and  he  made  use  of  this 
symbol  in  order  to  be  able  to  meditate  over  his  uncon- 
scious wish.  The  direct  coming  into  consciousness  of  the; 
Judas  wish  would  have  been  too  painful  for  him.  Thus, 
"'^here  must  he  typical  myths  which  are  really  the  instru- 
ments of  a  folk-psychological  complex  treatment/"  Jacob 
Burckhardt  seems  to  have  suspected  this  when  he  once 
said  that  every  Greek  of  the  classical  era  carried  in  him- 


CONCERNING  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING      41 

self  a  fragment  of  the  Oedipus,  just  as  every  German 
carries  a  fragment  of  Faust.^^ 

The  problem  which  the  simple  story  of  the  Abbe 
Oegger  has  brought  clearly  before  us  confronts  us  again 
when  we  prepare  to  examine  phantasies  which  owe  their 
existence  this  time  to  an  exclusively  unconscious  work. 
We  are  indebted  for  the  material  which  we  will  use  in 
the  following  chapters  to  the  useful  publication  of  an 
American  woman,  Miss  Frank  Miller,  who  has  given  to 
the  world  some  poetical  unconsciously  formed  phantasies 
under  the  title,  "  Quelque  faits  d'imagination  creatrice 
subconsciente." — Vol.  V.,  Archives  de  Psychologies 
1906.^^ 


CHAPTER  II 
THE  MILLER  PHANTASIES 

We  know,  from  much  psychoanalytic  experience,  that 
whenever  one  recounts  his  phantasies  or  his  dreams,  he 
deals  not  only  with  the  most  Important  and  Intimate  of 
his  problems,  but  with  the  one  the  most  painful  at  that 
moment/ 

Since  In  the  case  of  Miss  Miller  we  have  to  do  with  a 
complicated  system,  we  must  give  our  attention  carefully 
to  the  particulars  which  I  will  discuss,  following  as  best 
I  can  Miss  Miller's  presentation. 

In  the  first  chapter,  "  Phenomenes  de  suggestion  pas- 
sagere  ou  d'autosuggestlon  Instantanee,"  Miss  Miller 
gives  a  list  of  examples  of  her  unusual  suggestibility, 
which  she  herself  considers  as  a  symptom  of  her  nervous 
temperament;  for  example,  she  Is  excessively  fond  of 
caviar,  whereas  some  of  her  relatives  loathe  It.  How- 
ever, as  soon  as  any  one  expresses  his  loathing,  she  her- 
self feels  momentarily  the  same  loathing.  I  do  not  need 
to  emphasize  especially  the  fact  that  such  examples  are 
very  Important  In  Individual  psychology;  that  caviar  Is 
a  food  for  which  nervous  women  frequently  have  an 
especial  predilection,  is  a  fact  well  known  to  the  psycho- 
analysist. 

Miss  Miller  has  an  extraordinary  faculty  for  taking 

42 


p 

THE  MILLER  PHANTASIES  43 

other  people's  feelings  upon  herself,  and  of  identifica- 
tion; for  example,  she  identifies  herself  to  such  a  degree 
in  "  Cyrano  "  with  the  wounded  Christian  de  Neuvillette, 
that  she  feels  in  her  own  breast  a  truly  piercing  pain  at 
that  place  where  Christian  received  the  deadly  blow. 

From  the  viewpoint  of  analytic  psychology,  the  theatre, 
aside  from  any  esthetic  value,  may  be  considered  as  an 
institution  for  the  treatment  of  the  mass  complex.  The 
enjoyment  of  the  comedy,  or  of  the  dramatic  plot  ending 
happily  is  produced  by  an  unreserved  identification  of 
one's  own  complexes  with  the  play.  The  enjoyment  of 
tragedy  lies  in  the  thrilling  yet  satisfactory  feeling  that 
something  which  might  occur  to  one's  self  is  happening 
to  another.  The  sympathy  of  our  author  with  the  dying 
Christian  means  that  there  is  in  her  a  complex  awaiting 
a  similar  solution,  which  whispers  softly  to  her  "  hodie 
tibi,  eras  mihi,"  and  that  one  may  know  exactly  what  is 
considered  the  effectual  moment  Miss  Miller  adds  that 
she  felt  a  pain  in  her  breast,  "  Lorsque  Sarah  Bernhardt 
se  precipite  sur  lui  pour  etancher  le  sang  de  sa  blessure." 
Therefore  the  effectual  moment  is  when  the  love  between 
Christian  and  Roxane  comes  to  a  sudden  end. 

If  we  glance  over  the  whole  of  Rostand's  play,  we 
come  upon  certain  moments,  the  effect  of  which  one  can- 
not easily  escape  and  which  we  will  emphasize  here  be- 
cause they  have  meaning  for  all  that  follows.  Cyrano  de 
Bergerac,  with  the  long  ugly  nose,  on  account  of  which 
he  undertakes  countless  duels,  loves  Roxane,  who,  for 
her  part  unaware  of  it,  loves  Christian,  because  of  the 
beautiful  verses   which  really  originate   from   Cyrano's 


44         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

pen,  but  which  apparently  come  from  Christian.  Cyrano 
is  the  misunderstood  one,  whose  passionate  love  and 
noble  soul  no  one  suspects;  the  hero  who  sacrifices  him- 
self for  others,  and,  dying,  just  in  the  evening  of  life, 
reads  to  her  once  more  Christian's  last  letter,  the  verses 
which  he  himself  had  composed. 

"  Roxane,  adieu,  je  vais  mourir! 
C'est  pour  ce  soir,  je  crois, 'ma  bien-aimee! 
J'ai  Tame  lourde  encore  d'amour  inexprime. 
Et  je  meurs!     Jamais  plus,  jamais  mes  j'eux  grises, 
Mes  regards  dont  c'etait  les  fremissantes  fetes, 
Ne  baiseront  au  vol  les  gestes  que  vous  faites; 
J'en  revois  un  petit  qui  vous  est  familier 
Pour  toucher  votre  front  et  je  voudrais  crier — . 

Et  je  crie: 
Adieu! — Ma  chere,  ma  cherie, 
Mon   tresor — mon   amour ! 
Mon  coeur  ne  vous  quitta  jamais  une  seconde, 
Et  je  suis  et  je  serai  jusque   dans  I'autre   monde 
Celui   qui   vous   aime  sans  mesure,   celui — " 

Whereupon  Roxane  recognizes  in  him  the  real  loved 
one.  It  is  already  too  late;  death  comes;  and  in  agonized 
delirium,  Cyrano  raises  himself,  and  draws  his  sword: 

"  Je  crois,  qu'elle  regarde.   .    .    . 
Qu'elle  ose  regarder  mon  nez,  la  camarde! 

(II  leve  son  epee.) 
Que  dites-vous?  .  .  .  C'est  inutile! 

Je  le  sais! 
Mais  on  ne  se  bat  pas  dans  I'espoir  du  succes! 
Non!     Non!     C'est  bien  plus  beau,  lorsque  c'est  inutile! 
— Qu'est-ce  que  c'est  que  tous  ceux-la? — Vous  etes  mille? 
Ah!  je  vous  reconnais,  tous  mes  vieux  ennemis! 
Le  mensonge! 

(II  frappe  de  son  epee  le  vide.) 


THE  MILLER  PHANTASIES  45 

Tiens,  tiens,  ha!  ha!  les  Compromis, 
Les  Prejuges,  les  Lachetes!  .    .    . 

(II  frappe.) 
Que  je  pactise? 
Jamais,  jamais! — Ah,  te  voila,  toi,  la  Sottise! 
— Je  sais  bien  qu'a  la  fin  vous  me  mettrez  a  has; 
N'importe:  je  me  bats!  je  me  bats!  je  me  bats! 
Oui,  vous  m'arrachez  tout,  le  laurier  et  la  rose! 
Arrachez!     II  y  a  malgre  vous  quelque  chose 
Que  j'emporte,  et  ce  soir,   quand  j'entrerai  chez  Dieu, 
Mon  salut  balaiera  largement  le  seuil  bleu. 
Quelque  chose  que  sans  un  pli,  sans  une  tache, 
J'emporte  malgre  vous,  et  c'est — mon  panache." 

Cyrano,  who  under  the  hateful  exterior  of  his  body 
hid  a  soul  so  much  more  beautiful,  is  a  yearner  and  one 
misunderstood,  and  his  last  triumph  is  that  he  departs, 
at  least,  with  a  clean  shield — ^"  Sans  un  pli  et  sans  une 
tache."  The  identification  of  the  author  with  the  dying 
Christian,  who  in  himself  is  a  figure  but  little  impressive 
and  sympathetic,  expresses  clearly  that  a  sudden  end  is 
destined  for  her  love  just  as  for  Christian's  love.  The 
tragic  intermezzo  with  Christian,  however,  is  played  as 
we  have  seen  upon  a  background  of  much  wider  signifi- 
cance, viz.,  the  misunderstood  love  of  Cyrano  for 
Roxane.  Therefore,  the  identification  with  Christian 
has  only  the  significance  of  a  substitute  memory  ("  deck- 
erinnerung  ") ,  and  is  really  intended  for  Cyrano.  That 
this  is  just  what  we  might  expect  will  be  seen  in  the 
further  course  of  our  analysis. 

Besides  this  story  of  identification  with  Christian,  there 
follows  as  a  further  example  an  extraordinarily  plastic 


46         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

memory  of  the  sea,  evoked  by  the  sight  of  a  photograph  of 
a  steamboat  on  the  high  seas.  ("  Je  sentis  les  pulsations 
des  machines,  le  soulevement  des  vagues,  le  balancement 
du  navire.") 

We  may  mention  here  the  supposition  that  there  are 
connected  with  sea  journeys  particularly  impressive  and 
strong  memories  which  penetrate  deeply  into  the  soul 
and  give  an  especially  strong  character  to  the  surface 
memories  through  unconscious  harmony.  To  what  extent 
the  memories  assumed  here  agree  with  the  above  men- 
tioned problem  we  shall  see  in  the  following  pages. 

This  example,  following  at  this  time,  is  singular :  Once, 
while  in  bathing,  Miss  Miller  wound  a  towel  around  her 
hair,  in  order  to  protect  it  from  a  wetting.  At  the  same 
moment  she  had  the  following  strong  impression: 

"  II  me  sembla  que  j'etais  sur  un  piedestal,  une  veritable  statue 
egyptienne,  avec  tous  ses  details:  membres  raides,  un  pied  en 
avant,  la  main  tenant  des  insignes,"  and  so  on. 

Miss  Miller  identified  herself,  therefore,  with  an  Egyp- 
tian statue,  and  naturally  the  foundation  for  this  was 
a  subjective  pretension.  That  is  to  say,  "  I  am  like  an 
Egyptian  statue,  just  as  stiff,  wooden,  sublime  and  Im- 
passive," qualities  for  which  the  Egyptian  statue  is  pro- 
verbial. One  does  not  make  such  an  assertion  to  one's 
self  without  an  inner  compulsion,  and  the  correct  formula 
might  just  as  well  be,  "  as  stiff,  wooden,  etc.,  as  an  Egyp- 
tian statue  I  might  indeed  be."  The  sight  of  one's  own 
unclothed  body  in  a  bath  has  undeniable  effects  for  the 
phantasy,  which  can  be  set  at  rest  by  the  above  formula.^ 


THE  MILLER  PHANTASIES  47 

The  example  which  follows  this,  emphasizes  the 
author's  personal  influence  upon  an  artist: 

"  J'ai  reussi  a  lui  faire  rendre  des  paysages,  comme  ceux  du 
lac  Leman,  ou  il  n'a  jamais  ete,  et  il  pretendait  que  je  pouvais 
lui  faire  rendre  des  choses  qu'il  n'avait  jamais  vues,  et  lui  dormer 
la  sensation  d'une  atmosphere  ambiante  qu'il  n'avait  jamais  sentie; 
bref  que  je  me  servais  de  lui  comme  lui-meme  se  servait  de  son 
crayon,  c'est  a  dire  comme  d'un  simple  instrument." 

This  observation  stands  in  abrupt  contrast  to  the  phan- 
tasy of  the  Egyptian  statue.  Miss  Miller  had  here  the 
unspoken  need  of  emphasizing  her  almost  magic  effect 
upon  another  person.  This  could  not  have  happened, 
either,  without  an  unconscious  need,  which  is  particularly 
felt  by  one  who  does  not  often  succeed  in  making  an 
emotional  impression  upon  a  fellow  being. 

With  that,  the  list  of  examples  which  are  to  picture 
Miss  Miller's  autosuggestibility  and  suggestive  effect,  is 
exhausted.  In  this  respect,  the  examples  are  neither 
especially  striking  nor  interesting.  From  an  analytical 
viewpoint,  on  the  contrary,  they  are  much  more  impor- 
tant, since  they  afford  us  a  glance  into  the  soul  of  the 
writer.  Ferenczi"  has  taught  us  in  an  excellent  work 
what  is  to  be  thought  about  suggestibility,  that  is  to  say, 
that  these  phenomena  win  new  aspects  in  the  light  of  the 
Freudian  libido  theory,  in  so  much  as  their  effects  be- 
come clear  through  "  Libido-besetzungen."  This  was  al- 
ready indicated  above  in  the  discussion  of  the  examples, 
and  in  the  greatest  detail  regarding  the  identification 
with  Christian.  The  identification  becomes  effective  by 
its  receiving  an  influx  of  energy  from  the  strongly  accen- 


48         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

tuated  thought  and  emotional  feeling  underlying  the 
Christian  motif.  Just  the  reverse  is  the  suggestive  effect 
of  the  individual  In  an  especial  capacity  for  concentrating 
interest  (that  is  to  say,  libido)  upon  another  person,  by 
which  the  other  is  unconsciously  compelled  to  reaction 
(the  same  or  opposed).  The  majority  of  the  examples 
concern  cases  where  Miss  Miller  Is  put  under  the  effects 
of  suggestion;  that  is  to  say,  when  the  libido  has  spon- 
taneously gained  possession  of  certain  impressions,  and 
this  is  Impossible  If  the  libido  is  dammed  up  to  an  un- 
usual degree  by  the  lack  of  application  to  reality.  Miss 
Miller's  observations  about  suggestibility  Inform  us, 
therefore,  of  the  fact  that  the  author  is  pleased  to  tell 
us  In  her  following  phantasies  something  of  the  history 
of  her  love. 


CHAPTER  III 
THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION 

The  second  chapter  in  Miss  Miller's  work  is  entitled, 
"  Gloire  a  Dieu.    Poeme  onirique." 

When  twenty  years  of  age,  Miss  Miller  took  a  long 
journey  through  Europe.  We  leave  the  description  of  it 
to  her: 

"  After  a  long  and  rough  journey  from  New  York  to  Stock- 
holm, from  there  to  Petersburg  and  Odessa,  I  found  it  a  true 
pleasure  ^  to  leave  the  world  of  inhabited  cities — and  to  enter 
the  world  of  waves,  sky  and  silence — I  stayed  hours  long  on  deck 
to  dream,  stretched  out  in  a  reclining  chair.  The  histories,  legends 
and  myths  of  the  different  countries  which  I  saw  in  the  distance, 
came  back  to  me  indistinctly  blended  together  in  a  sort  of 
luminous  mist,  in  which  things  lost  their  reality,  while  the  dreams 
and  thoughts  alone  took  on  somewhat  the  appearance  of  reality. 
At  first,  I  even  avoided  all  company  and  kept  to  myself,  lost 
wholly  in  my  dreams,  where  all  that  I  knew  of  great,  beautiful 
and  good  came  back  into  my  consciousness  with  new  strength  and 
new  life.  I  also  employed  a  great  part  of  my  time  writing  to  my 
distant  friends,  reading  and  sketching  out  short  poems  about  the 
regions  visited.  Some  of  these  poems  were  of  a  very  serious 
character." 

It  may  seem  superfluous,  perhaps,  to  enter  intimately 
into  all  these  details.  If  we  recall,  however,  the  remark 
made  above, — that  when  people  let  their  unconscious 
speak,  they  always  tell  us  the  most  important  things  of 

49 


■50         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

their  intimate  selves — then  even  the  smallest  detail  ap- 
pears to  have  meaning.  Valuable  personalities  invariably 
tell  us,  through  their  unconscious,  things  that  are  gener- 
ally valuable,  so  that  patient  interest  is  rewarded. 

Miss  Miller  describes  here  a  state  of  "  introversion." 
After  the  life  of  the  cities  with  their  many  impressions 
had  been  absorbing  her  interest  (with  that  already  dis- 
cussed strength  of  suggestion  which  powerfully  enforced 
the  impression)  she  breathed  freely  upon  the  ocean,  and 
after  so  many  external  impressions,  became  engrossed 
wholly  in  the  internal  with  intentional  abstraction  from 
the  surroundings,  so  that  things  lost  their  reality  and 
dreams  became  truth.  We  know  from  psychopathology 
that  certain  mental  disturbances  ■  exist  which  are  first 
manifested  by  the  individuals  shutting  themselves  off 
slowly,  more  and  more,  from  reality  and  sinking  into 
their  phantasies,  during  which  process,  in  proportion  as 
the  reality  loses  its  hold,  the  inner  world  gains  in  reality 
and  determining  power. ^  This  process  leads  to  a  certain 
point  (which  varies  with  the  individual)  when  the  pa- 
tients suddenly  become  more  or  less  conscious  of  their 
separation  from  reality.  The  event  which  then  enters 
is  the  pathological  excitation:  that  is  to  say,  the  patients 
begin  to  turn  towards  the  environment,  with  diseased 
views  (to  be  sure)  which,  however,  still  represent  the 
compensating,  although  unsuccessful,  attempt  at  trans- 
ference.* The  methods  of  reaction  are,  naturally,  very 
different.  I  will  not  concern  myself  more  closely  about 
this  here. 

This  type  appears  to  be  generally  a  psychological  rule 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  51 

which  holds  good  for  all  neuroses  and,  therefore,  also 
for  the  normal  in  a  much  less  degree.  We  might,  there- 
fore, expect  that  Miss  Miller,  after  this  energetic  and  per- 
severing introversion,  which  had  even  encroached  for  a 
time  upon  the  feeling  of  reality,  would  succumb  anew  to 
an  impression  of  the  real  world  and  also  to  just  as  sug- 
gestive and  energetic  an  influence  as  that  of  her  dreams. 
Let  us  proceed  with  the  narrative : 

"  But  as  the  journey  drew  to  an  end,  the  ship's  officers  outdid 
themselves  in  kindness  (tout  ce  qu'il  y  a  de  plus  empresse  et  de  plus 
aimable)  and  I  passed  many  amusing  hours  teaching  them  English. 
On  the  Sicilian  coast,  in  the  harbor  of  Catania,  I  wrote  a  sailor's 
song  which  was  very  similar  to  a  song  well  known  on  the  sea, 
(Brine,  wine  and  damsels  fine).  The  Italians  in  general  all  sing 
very  well,  and  one  of  the  officers  who  sang  on  deck  during  night 
watch,  had  made  a  great  impression  upon  me  and  had  given  me 
the  idea  of  writing  some  words  adapted  to  his  melody.  Soon 
after  that,  I  was  very  nearly  obliged  to  reverse  the  well-known 
saying,  '  Veder  Napoli  e  poi  morir,' — that  is  to  say,  suddenly  I 
became  very  ill,  although  not  dangerously  so.  I  recovered  to 
such  an  extent,  however,  that  I  could  go  on  land  to  visit  the 
sights  of  the  city  in  a  carriage.  This  day  tired  me  very  much, 
and  since  we  had  planned  to  see  Pisa  the  following  day,  I  went 
on  board  early  in  the  evening  and  soon  lay  down  to  sleep  without 
thinking  of  anything  more  serious  than  the  beauty  of  the  officers 
and  the  ugliness  of  the  Italian  beggars." 

One  is  somewhat  disappointed  at  meeting  here,  Instead 
of  the  expected  impression  of  reality,  rather  a  small  inter- 
mezzo, a  flirtation.  Nevertheless,  one  of  the  officers, 
the  singer,  had  made  a  great  impression  (il  m'avait  fait 
beaucoup  d'impression) .  The  remark  at  the  close  of  the 
description,  "  sans  songer  a  rien  de  plus  serieux  qu'a  la 


52  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

beaute  des  officiers,'  and  so  on,  diminishes  the  seriousness 
of  the  impression,  it  is  true.  The  assumption,  however, 
that  the  impression  openly  influenced  the  mood  very 
much,  is  supported  by  the  fact  that  a  poem  upon  a  subject 
of  such  an  erotic  character  came  forth  immediately, 
"  Brine,  wine  and  damsels  fine,"  and  in  the  singer's  honor. 
One  is  only  too  easily  inclined  to  take  such  an  impression 
lightly,  and  one  admits  so  gladly  the  statements  of  the 
participators  when  they  represent  everything  as  simple 
and  not  at  all  serious.  I  dwell  upon  this  impression  at 
length,  because  it  is  important  to  know  that  an  erotic  im- 
pression after  such  an  introversion,  has  a  deep  effect  and 
is  undervalued,  possibly,  by  Miss  Miller.  The  suddenly 
passing  sickness  is  obscure  and  needs  a  psychologic  inter- 
pretation which  cannot  be  touched  upon  here  because  of 
lack  of  data.  The  phenomena  now  to  be  described  can 
only  be  explained  as  arising  from  a  disturbance  which 
reaches  to  the  very  depths  of  her  being. 

"  From  Naples  to  Livorno,  the  ship  travelled  for  a  night, 
during  which  I  slept  more  or  less  well, — my  sleep,  however,  is 
seldom  deep  or  dreamless.  It  seemed  to  me  as  if  my  mother's 
voice  wakened  me,  just  at  the  end  of  the  following  dream.  At 
first  I  had  a  vague  conception  of  the  words,  '  When  the  morning 
stars  sang  together,'  which  were  the  praeludium  of  a  certain  con- 
fused representation  of  creation  and  of  the  mighty  chorals  re- 
sounding through  the  universe.  In  spite  of  the  strange,  contra- 
dictory and  confused  character  which  is  peculiar  to  the  dream, 
there  was  mingled  in  it  the  chorus  of  an  oratorio  which  has  been 
given  by  one  of  the  foremost  musical  societies  of  New  York,  and 
with  that  were  also  memories  of  Milton's  *  Paradise  Lost.'  Then 
from  out  of  this  whirl,  there  slowly  emerged  certain  words,  which 
arranged  themselves  into  three  strophes  and,  indeed,  they  seemed 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  53 

to  be  in  my  own  handwriting  on  ordinary  blue-lined  writing  paper 
on  a  page  of  my  old  poetry  book  which  I  always  carried  around  with 
me;  in  short,  they  appeared  to  me  exactly  as  some  minutes  later 
they  were  in  reality  in  my  book." 

Miss  Miller  now  wrote  down  the  following  poem, 
which  she  rearranged  somewhat  a  few  months  later,  to 
make  it  more  nearly,  in  her  opinion,  like  the  dream 
original. 

"  When  the  Eternal  first  made  Sound 
A  myriad  ears  sprang  out  to  hear, 
And  throughout  all  the  Universe 
There  rolled  an  echo  deep  and  clear: 
All  glory  to  the  God  of  Sound! 

"  When  the  Eternal  first  made  Light 
A  myriad  eyes  sprang  out  to  look, 
And  hearing  ears  and  seeing  eyes 
Once  more  a  mighty  choral  took : 
All  glory  to  the  God  of  Light! 

"  When  the  Eternal  first  gave  Love 
A  myriad  hearts  sprang  into  life; 
Ears  filled  with  music,  eyes  with  light; 
Pealed  forth  with  hearts  with  love  all  rife: 
All  glory  to  the  God  of  Love!  " 

Before  we  enter  upon  Miss  Miller's  attempt  to  bring 
to  light  through  her  suppositions  ^  the  root  of  this  sub- 
liminal creation,  we  will  attempt  a  short  analytic  survey 
of  the  material  already  in  our  possession.  The  impres- 
sion on  the  ship  has  already  been  properly  emphasized, 
so  that  we  need  have  no  further  difficulty  in  gaining  pos- 
session of  the  dynamic  process  which  brought  about  this 
poetical  revelation.     It  was  made  clear  in  the  preceding 


54         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

paragraphs  that  Miss  Miller  possibly  had  not  Inconsid- 
erably undervalued  the  Importance  of  the  erotic  Impres- 
sion. This  assumption  gains  in  probability  through  ex- 
perience, which  shows  that,  very  generally,  relatively 
weak  erotic  Impressions  are  greatly  undervalued.  One 
can  see  this  best  in  cases  where  those  concerned,  either 
from  social  or  moral  grounds,  consider  an  erotic  relation 
as  something  quite  impossible;  for  example,  parents  and 
children,  brothers  and  sisters,  relations  (homosexual) 
between  older  and  younger  men,  and  so  on.  If  the  Im- 
pression Is  relatively  slight,  then  it  does  not  exist  at  all 
for  the  participators;  If  the  impression  is  strong,  then  a 
tragic  dependence  arises,  which  may  result  in  some  great 
nonsense,  or  be  carried  to  any  extent.  This  lack  of  under- 
standing can  go  unbelievably  far;  mothers,  who  see  the 
first  erections  of  the  small  son  in  their  own  bed,  a  sister 
who  half-playfully  embraces  her  brother,  a  twenty-year- 
old  daughter  who  still  seats  herself  on  her  father's  lap, 
and  then  has  "  strange  "  sensations  In  her  "  abdomen." 
They  are  all  morally  indignant  to  the  highest  degree  if 
one  speaks  of  "  sexuality."  Finally,  our  whole  education 
is  carried  on  with  the  tacit  agreement  to  know  as  little 
as  possible  of  the  erotic,  and  to  spread  abroad  the  deepest 
Ignorance  In  regard  to  It.  It  is  no  wonder,  therefore, 
that  the  judgment,  in  piincto,  of  the  importance  of  an 
erotic  Impression  Is  generally  unsafe  and  inadequate. 

Miss  Miller  was  under  the  influence  of  a  deep  erotic 
impression,  as  we  have  seen.  Because  of  the  sum-total 
of  the  feelings  aroused  by  this.  It  does  not  seem  that  this 
impression  was  more  than  dimly  realized,  for  the  dream 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  55 

had  to  contain  a  powerful  repetition.  From  analytic  ex- 
perience, one  knows  that  the  early  dreams  which  patients 
bring  for  analysis  are  none  the  less  of  especial  interest, 
because  of  the  fact  that  they  bring  out  criticisms  and 
valuations  of  the  physician's  personality,  which  previ- 
ously, would  have  been  asked  for  directly  in  vain.  They 
enrich  the  conscious  impression  which  the  patient  had  of 
his  physician,  and  often  concerning  very  important  points. 
They  are  naturally  erotic  observations  which  the  uncon- 
scious was  forced  to  make,  just  because  of  the  quite  uni- 
versal undervaluation  and  uncertain  judgment  of  the 
relatively  weak  erotic  impression.  In  the  drastic  and 
hyperbolic  manner  of  expression  of  the  dream,  the  impres- 
sion often  appears  in  almost  unintelligible  form  on  account 
of  the  immeasurable  dimension  of  the  symbol.  A  further 
peculiarity  which  seems  to  rest  upon  the  historic  strata  of 
the  unconscious,  is  this — that  an  erotic  impression,  to 
which  conscious  acknowledgment  is  denied,  usurps  an 
earlier  and  discarded  transference  and  expresses  itself 
in  that.  Therefore,  it  frequently  happens,  for  example, 
that  among  young  girls  at  the  time  of  their  first  love, 
remarkable  difficulties  develop  in  the  capacity  for  erotic 
expression,  which  may  be  reduced  analytically  to  disturb- 
ances through  a  regressive  attempt  at  resuscitation  of 
the  father  image,  or  the  "  Father-Imago."  ^ 

Indeed,  one  might  presume  something  similar  in  Miss 
Miller's  case,  for  the  idea  of  the  masculine  creative  deity 
is  a  derivation,  analytically  and  historically  psychologic, 
of  the  "  Father-Imago,"  ^  and  aims,  above  all,  to  replace 
the  discarded  infantile  father  transference  in  such  a  way 


56         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

that  for  the  individual  the  passing  from  the  narrow  circle 
of  the  family  into  the  wider  circle  of  human  society  may 
be  simpler  or  made  easier. 

In  the  light  of  this  reflection,  we  can  see,  in  the  poem 
and  its  "  Praeludium,"  the  religious,  poetically  formed 
product  of  an  introversion  depending  upon  the  surrogate 
of  the  "  Father-Imago."  In  spite  of  the  incomplete  ap- 
perception of  the  effectual  impression,  essential  compo- 
nent parts  of  this  are  included  in  the  idea  of  compensa- 
tion, as  marks,  so  to  speak,  of  its  origin.  (Pfister  has 
coined  for  this  the  striking  expression,  "  Law  of  the  Re- 
turn of  the  Complex.")  The  effectual  impression  was 
that  of  the  officer  singing  in  the  night  watch,  "  When  the 
morning  stars  sang  together."  The  idea  of  this  opened 
a  new  world  to  the  girl.     (Creation.) 

This  creator  has  created  tone,  then  light,  and  then 
love.  That  the  first  to  be  created  should  have  been  tone, 
can  be  made  clear  only  individually,  for  there  is  no  cos- 
mogony except  the  Gnosis  of  Hermes,  a  generally  quite 
unknown  system,  which  would  have  such  tendencies.  But 
now  we  might  venture  a  conjecture,  which  is  already  ap- 
parent, and  which  soon  will  be  proven  thoroughly,  viz., 
the  following  chain  of  associations :  the  singer — the  sing- 
ing morning  stars — the  God  of  tone — the  Creator — the 
God  of  Light — (of  the  sun)  —  (of  the  fire) — and  of  Love. 

The  links  of  this  chain  are  proven  by  the  material,  with 
the  exception  of  sun  and  fire,  which  I  put  in  parentheses, 
but  which,  however,  will  be  proven  through  what  follows 
in  the  further  course  of  the  analysis.  All  of  these  express 
sions,  with  one  exception,  belong  to  erotic  speech.     ("  My 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  57 

God,  star,  light;  my  sun,  fire  of  love,  fiery  love,"  etc.) 
"  Creator  "  appears  indistinct  at  first,  but  becomes  under- 
standable through  the  reference  to  the  undertone  of  Eros, 
to  the  vibrating  chord  of  Nature,  which  attempts  to  renew 
itself  In  every  pair  of  lovers,  and  awaits  the  wonder  of 
creation. 

Miss  Miller  had  taken  pains  to  disclose  the  unconscious 
creation  of  her  mind  to  her  understanding,  and,  indeed 
through  a  procedure  which  agrees  in  principle  with 
psychoanalysis,  and,  therefore,  leads  to  the  same  results 
as  psychoanalysis.  But,  as  usually  happens  with  laymen 
and  beginners.  Miss  Miller,  because  she  had  no  knowl- 
edge of  psychoanalysis,  left  off  at  the  thoughts  which 
necessarily  bring  the  deep  complex  lying  at  the  bottom 
of  it  to  light  in  an  indirect,  that  is  to  say,  censored  man- 
ner. More  than  this,  a  simple  method,  merely  the  carry- 
ing out  of  the  thought  to  its  conclusion,  is  sufficient  to  dis- 
cover the  meaning.  Miss  Miller  finds  it  astonishing  that 
her  unconscious  phantasy  does  not,  following  the  Mosaic 
account  of  creation,  put  light  in  the  first  place,  instead  of 
tone. 

Now  follows  an  explanation,  theoretically  constructed 
and  correct  ad  hoc,  the  hollowness  of  which  is,  however, 
characteristic  of  all  similar  attempts  at  explanation.  She 
says : 

"  It  is  perhaps  interesting  to  recall  that  Anaxagoras  also  had 
the  Cosmos  arise  out  of  chaos  through  a  sort  of  whirlwind,  which 
does  not  happen  usually  without  producing  sound.*  But  at  this 
time  I  had  studied  no  philosophy,  and  knew  nothing  either  of 
Anaxagoras  or  of  his  theories  about  the  'rov?,*  which  I,  uncon- 
sciously, was  openly  following.    At  that  time,  also,  I  was  equally 


58         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

in  complete  ignorance  of  Leibnitz,  and,  therefore,  knew  nothing 
of  his  doctrine  '  dum  Deus  calculat,  fit  mundus.'  " 

Miss  Miller's  references  to  Anaxagoras  and  to  Leib- 
nitz both  refer  to  creation  by  means  of  thought;  that  is 
to  say,  that  divine  thought  alone  could  bring  forth  a  new 
material  reality,  a  reference  at  first  not  intelligible,  but 
which  will  soon,  however,  be  more  easily  understood. 

We  now  come  to  those  fancies  from  which  Miss  Miller 
principally  drew  her  unconscious  creation. 

"  In  the  first  place,  there  is  the  '  Paradise  Lost '  by  Milton, 
which  we  had  at  home  in  the  edition  illustrated  by  Dore,  and 
which  had  often  delighted  me  from  childhood.  Then  the  '  Book 
of  Job,'  which  had  been  read  aloud  to  me  since  the  time  of  my 
earliest  recollection.  Moreover,  if  one  compares  the  first  words 
of  '  Paradise  Lost '  with  my  first  verse,  one  notices  that  there 
is  the  same  verse  measure. 

"  '  Of  man's  first  disobedience   .    .    . 

"  '  When  the  Eternal  first  made  sound.' 

"  My  poem  also  recalls  various  passages  in  Job,  and  one  or  two 
places  in  Handel's  Oratorio  '  The  Creation,'  which  came  out 
very  indistinctly  in  the  first  part  of  the  dream."  ^ 

The  "  Lost  Paradise  "  which,  as  is  well  known,  is  so 
closely  connected  with  the  beginning  of  the  world,  is 
made  more  clearly  evident  by  the  verse — 

"  Of  man's  first  disobedience  " 
which  is  concerned  evidently  with  the  fall,  the  meaning 
of  which  need  not  be  shown  any  further.  I  know  the 
objection  which  every  one  unacquainted  with  psycho- 
analysis will  raise,  viz.,  that  Miss  Miller  might  just  as 
well  have  chosen  any  other  verse  as  an  example,  and  that, 
accidentally,  she  had  taken  the  first  one  that  happened 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  59 

to  appear  which  had  this  content,  also  accidentally.  As 
is  well  known,  the  criticism  which  we  hear  equally  from 
our  medical  colleagues,  and  from  our  patients,  is  gener- 
ally based  on  such  arguments.  This  misunderstanding 
arises  from  the  fact  that  the  law  of  causation  in  the 
psychical  sphere  is  not  taken  seriously  enough;  that  is  to 
say,  there  are  no  accidents,  no  "  just  as  wells."  It  is  so, 
and  there  is,  therefore,  a  sufficient  reason  at  hand  why 
it  is  so.  It  is  moreover  true  that  Miss  Miller's  poem  is 
connected  with  the  fall,  wherein  just  that  erotic  compo- 
nent comes  forth,  the  existence  of  which  we  have  surmised 
above. 

Miss  Miller  neglects  to  tell  which  passages  in  Job 
occurred  to  her  mind.  These,  unfortunately,  are  there- 
fore only  general  suppositions.  Take  first,  the  analogy 
to  the  Lost  Paradise.  Job  lost  all  that  he  had,  and  this 
was  due  to  an  act  of  Satan,  who  wished  to  incite  him 
against  God.  In  the  same  way  mankind,  through  the 
temptation  of  the  serpent,  lost  Paradise,  and  was  plunged 
into  earth's  torments.  The  idea,  or  rather  the  mood 
which  is  expressed  by  the  reference  to  the  Lost  Paradise, 
is  Miss  Miller's  feeling  that  she  had  lost  something 
which  was  connected  with  satanic  temptation.  To  her  it 
happened,  just  as  to  Job,  that  she  suffered  innocently,  for 
she  did  not  fall  a  victim  to  temptation.  Job's  sufferings 
are  not  understood  by  his  friends;^"  no  one  knows  that 
Satan  has  taken  a  hand  in  the  game,  and  that  Job  is  truly 
innocent.  Job  never  tires  of  avowing  his  innocence.  Is 
there  a  hint  in  that?  We  know  that  certain  neurotic  and 
especially  mentally   diseased  people   continually   defend 


6o        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

their  innocence  against  non-existent  attacks ;  however,  one 
discovers  at  a  closer  examination  that  the  patient,  while 
he  apparently  defends  his  innocence  without  reason,  fulfils 
with  that  a  "  Deckhandlung,"  the  energy  for  which  arises 
from  just  those  impulses,  whose  sinful  character  is  re- 
vealed by  the  contents  of  the  pretended  reproach  and 
calumny." 

Job  suffered  doubly,  on  one  side  through  the  loss  of  his 
fortune,  on  the  other  through  the  lack  of  understanding 
in  his  friends ;  the  latter  can  be  seen  throughout  the  book. 
The  suffering  of  the  misunderstood  recalls  the  figure  of 
Cyrano  de  Bergerac — he  too  suffered  doubly,  on  one  side 
through  hopeless  love,  on  the  other  side  through  mis- 
understanding. He  falls,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the  last  hope- 
less battle  against  "  Le  Mensonge,  les  Compromis,  les 
Prejuges,  les  Lachetes  et  la  Sottise. — Qui,  Vous  m'ar- 
rachez  tout  le  laurier  et  la  rose !  " 

Job  laments 

"  God  delivereth  me  to  the  ungodly, 
And  casteth  me  into  the  hands  of  the  wicked, 
I  was  at  ease,  and  he  brake  me  asunder ; 
Yea,  he  hath  taken  me  by  the  neck,  and  dashed  me  to  pieces: 

"He  hath  also  set  me  up  for  his  mark. 
His  archers  compass  me  round  about; 
He  cleaveth  my  reins  asunder,  and  doth  not  spare; 
He  poureth  out  my  gall  upon  the  ground. 
He  breaketh  me  with  breach  upon  breach; 
He  runneth  upon  me  like  a  giant." — Job  xvi:  11-15. 

The  analogy  of  feeling  lies  in  the  suffering  of  the  hope- 
less struggle  against  the  more  powerful.  It  is  as  if  this 
conflict  were  accompanied  from  afar  by  the  sounds  of 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  6i 

"  creation,"  which  brings  up  a  beautiful  and  mysterious 
image  belonging  to  the  unconscious,  and  which  has  not 
yet  forced  its  way  up  to  the  light  of  the  upper  world. 
We  surmise,  rather  than  know,  that  this  battle  has  really 
something  to  do  with  creation,  with  the  struggles  between 
negations  and  affirmations.  The  references  to  Rostand's 
"  Cyrano  "  through  the  identification  with  Christian,  to 
Milton's  "  Paradise  Lost,"  to  the  sorrows  of  Job,  mis- 
understood by  his  friends,  betray  plainly  that  in  the  soul 
of  the  poet  something  was  identified  with  these  ideas.  She 
also  has  suffered  like  Cyrano  and  Job,  has  lost  paradise, 
and  dreams  of  "  creation," — creation  by  means  of  thought 
— fruition  through  the  whirlwind  of  Anaxagoras.^^ 

We  once  more  submit  ourselves  to  Miss  Miller's 
guidance : 

"  I  remember  that  when  fifteen  years  old,  I  was  once  very 
much  stirred  up  over  an  article,  read  aloud  to  me  by  my  mother, 
concerning  the  idea  which  spontaneously  produced  its  object.  I 
was  so  excited  that  I  could  not  sleep  all  night  because  of  thinking 
over  and  over  again  what  that  could  mean. 

"  From  the  age  of  nine  to  sixteen,  I  went  every  Sunday  to  a 
Presbyterian  Church,  in  charge  of  which,  at  that  time,  was  a  very 
cultured  minister.  In  one  of  the  earliest  memories  which  I  have 
retained  of  him,  I  see  mj'self  as  a  very  small  girl  sitting  in  a 
very  large  pew,  continually  endeavoring  to  keep  myself  awake  and 
pay  attention,  without  in  the  least  being  able  to  understand 
what  he  meant  when  he  spoke  to  us  of  Chaos,  Cosmos  and  the 
Gift  of  Love   (don  d'amour)." 

There  are  also  rather  early  memories  of  the  awaken- 
ing of  puberty  (nine  to  sixteen)  which  have  connected 
the  idea  of  the  cosmos  springing  from  chaos  with  the 


62         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

"  don  d'amour."  The  medium  In  which  these  associations 
occur  is  the  memory  of  a  certain  very  much  honored 
ecclesiastic  who  spoke  those  dark  words.  From  the  same 
period  of  time  comes  the  remembrance  of  that  excitement 
about  the  idea  of  the  "  creative  thought "  which  from 
itself  "  produced  its  object."  Here  are  two  ways  of  crea- 
tion intimated:  the  creative  thought,  and  the  mysterious 
reference  to  the  "  don  d'amour." 

At  the  time  when  I  had  not  yet  understood  the  nature 
of  psychoanalysis,  I  had  a  fortunate  opportunity  of  win- 
ning through  continual  observation  a  deep  insight  into 
the  soul  of  a  fifteen-year-old  girl.  Then  I  discovered, 
with  astonishment,  what  the  contents  of  the  unconscious 
phantasies  are,  and  how  far  removed  they  are  from  those 
which  a  girl  of  that  age  shows  outwardly.  There  are 
wide-reaching  phantasies  of  truly  mythical  fruitfulness. 
The  girl  was,  in  the  split-off  phantasy,  the  race-mother 
of  uncounted  peoples. ^^  If  we  deduct  the  poetically 
spoken  phantasy  of  the  girl,  elements  are  left  which  at 
that  age  are  common  to  all  girls,  for  the  unconscious  con- 
tent is  to  an  infinitely  greater  degree  common  to  all  man- 
kind than  the  content  of  the  individual  consciousness. 
For  it  is  the  condensation  of  that  which  is  historically  the 
average  and  ordinary. 

Miss  Miller's  problem  at  this  age  was  the  common 
human  problem:  "  How  am  I  to  be  creative?  "  Nature 
knows  but  one  answer  to  that:  "  Through  the  child  (don 
d'amour!)."  "  But  how  is  the  child  attained?  "  Here 
the  terrifying  problem  emerges,  which,  as  our  analytic 
experience  shows,  is  connected  with  the  father,"  where 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  63 

It  cannot  be  solved;  because  the  original  sin  of  incest 
weighs  heavily  for  all  time  upon  the  human  race.  The 
strong  and  natural  love  which  binds  the  child  to  the 
father,  turns  away  in  those  years  during  which  the 
humanity  of  the  father  would  be  all  too  plainly  recog- 
nized, to  the  higher  forms  of  the  father,  to  the  "  Fathers  " 
of  the  church,  and  to  the  Father  God,^^  visibly  repre- 
sented by  them,  and  in  that  there  lies  still  less  possibility 
of  solving  the  problem.  However,  mythology  is  not  lack- 
ing in  consolations.  Has  not  the  logos  become  flesh 
too?  Has  not  the  divine  pneiima,  even  the  logos,  en- 
tered the  Virgin's  womb  and  lived  among  us  as  the  son 
of  man?  That  whirlwind  of  Anaxagoras  was  precisely 
the  divine  vov?  which  from  out  of  itself  has  become 
the  world.  Why  do  we  cherish  the  image  of  the  Virgin 
Mother  even  to  this  day?  Because  it  is  always  comfort- 
ing and  says  without  speech  or  noisy  sermon  to  the  one 
seeking  comfort,  "  I  too  have  become  a  mother," — 
through  the  "  idea  which  spontaneously  produces  its 
object." 

I  believe  that  there  is  foundation  enough  at  hand  for  a 
sleepless  night,  if  those  phantasies  peculiar  to  the  age  of 
puberty  were  to  become  possessed  of  this  idea — the  results 
would  be  immeasurable !  All  that  is  psychologic  has  an 
under  and  an  over  meaning,  as  is  expressed  in  the  pro- 
found remark  of  the  old  mystic:  ovpavo?  arco,  ovpavo? 
Harco,  aiOepa  avco,  aidtpa  jkxtgt,  nav  rovTO  avoa,  ndv 
rovTo  HocroD,  rovxoXajii  nai  (.vrvx^^^ — 

*  The  heaven  above,  the  heaven  below,  the  sky  above,  the  sky  below, 
all  things  above,  all  things  below,  decline  and  rise. 


64         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

We  would  show  but  slight  justice,  however,  to  the  in- 
tellectual originality  of  our  author,  if  we  were  satisfied 
to  trace  back  the  commotion  of  that  sleepless  night  abso- 
lutely and  entirely  to  the  sexual  problem  in  a  narrow 
sense.  That  would  be  but  one-half,  and  truly,  to  make 
use  of  the  mystic's  expression,  only  the  under  half.  The 
other  half  is  the  intellectual  sublimation,  which  strives 
to  make  true  in  its  own  way  the  ambiguous  expression  of 
"  the  idea  which  produces  its  object  spontaneously," — 
ideal  creation  in  place  of  the  real. 

In  such  an  intellectual  accomplishment  of  an  evidently 
very  capable  personality,  the  prospect  of  a  spiritual  fruit- 
fulness  is  something  which  is  worthy  of  the  highest  as- 
piration, since  for  many  it  will  become  a  necessity  of  life. 
Also  this  side  of  the  phantasy  explains,  to  a  great  ex- 
tent, the  excitement,  for  it  is  a  thought  with  a  presenti- 
ment of  the  future;  one  of  those  thoughts  which  arise, 
to  use  one  of  Maeterlinck's  expressions, ^''  from  the  "  in- 
conscient  superieur,"  that  "  prospective  potency  "  of  sub- 
liminal combinations." 

I  have  had  the  opportunity  of  observing  certain  cases 
of  neuroses  of  years'  duration,  in  which,  at  the  time  of 
the  beginning  of  the  illness  or  shortly  before,  a  dream 
occurred,  often  of  visionary  clarity.  This  impressed 
itself  inextinguishably  upon  the  memory,  and  in  analysis 
revealed  a  hidden  meaning  to  the  patient  which  antici- 
pated the  subsequent  events  of  life;  that  is  to  say,  their 
psychologic  meaning.^^  I  am  inclined  to  grant  this  mean- 
ing to  the  commotion  of  that  restless  night,  because  the 
resulting  events  of  life,  in  so  far  as  Miss  Miller  con- 


! 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  65 

sciously  and  unconsciously  unveils  them  to  us,  are  entirely 
of  a  nature  to  confirm  the  supposition  that  that  moment 
is  to  be  considered  as  the  inception  and  presentiment  of 
a  sublimated  aim  in  life. 

Miss  Miller  concludes  the  list  of  her  fancies  with  the 
following  remarks: 

"  The  dream  seemed  to  me  to  come  from  a  mixture  of  the 
representation  of  *  Paradise  Lost,'  '  Job,'  and  *  Creation,'  with 
ideas  such  as  '  thought  which  spontaneously  produces  its  object ' : 
'  the  gift  of  love,'  '  chaos,  and  cosmos.'  " 

In  the  same  way  as  colored  splinters  of  glass  are  com- 
bined in  a  kaleidoscope,  in  her  mind  fragments  of  philos- 
ophy, aesthetics  and  religion  would  seem  to  be  combined — 

"  under  the  stimulating  influence  of  the  journey,  and  the  coun- 
tries hurriedly  seen,  combined  with  the  great  silence  and  the  inde- 
scribable charm  of  the  sea.  '  Ce  ne  fut  que  cela  et  rien  de  plus.' 
'  Only  this,  and  nothing  more!  '  " 

With  these  words,  Miss  Miller  shows  us  out,  politely 
and  energetically.  Her  parting  words  in  her  negation, 
confirmed  over  again  in  English,  leave  behind  a  curiosity; 
viz.,  what  position  is  to  be  negated  by  these  words?  "  Ce 
ne  fut  que  cela  et  rien  de  plus  " — that  is  to  say,  really, 
only  "  le  charme  impalpable  de  la  mer  " — and  the  young 
man  who  sang  melodiously  during  the  night  watch  is  long 
since  forgotten,  and  no  one  is  to  know,  least  of  all  the 
dreamer,  that  he  was  a  morning  star,  who  came  before 
the  creation  of  a  new  day.^^  One  should  take  care  lest 
he  satisfy  himself  and  the  reader  with  a  sentence  such  as 
"  ce  ne  fut  que  cela."     Otherwise,  it  might  immediately 


66         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

happen  that  one  would  become  disturbed  again.  This 
occurs  to  Miss  Miller  too,  since  she  allowed  an  English 
quotation  to  follow, — "  Only  this,  and  nothing  more," 
without  giving  the  source,  it  is  true.  The  quotation  comes 
from  an  unusually  effective  poem,  "  The  Raven  "  by  Poe. 
The  line  referred  to  occurs  in  the  following: 

"  While  I  nodded,  nearly  napping,  suddenly  there  came  a  tapping 
As  of  some  one  gently  rapping,  rapping  at  my  chamber  door — 
*  'Tis  some  visitor,'  I  muttered,  '  tapping  at  my  chamber  door  ' — 
Only  this,  and  nothing  more." 

The  spectral  raven  knocks  nightly  at  his  door  and 
reminds  the  poet  of  his  irrevocably  lost  "  Lenore."  The 
raven's  name  is  "  Nevermore,"  and  as  a  refrain  to  every 
verse  he  croaks  his  horrible  "  Nevermore."  Old  mem- 
ories come  back  tormentingly,  and  the  spectre  repeats  in- 
exorably "  Nevermore."  The  poet  seeks  in  vain  to 
frighten  away  the  dismal  guest;  he  calls  to  the  raven: 

"  '  Be  that  word  our  sign  of  parting,  bird  or  fiend,'  I  shrieked, 
upstarting — 
'  Get  thee  back  into  the  tempest  and  the  night's  Plutonian  shore! 
Leave  no  black  plume  as  a  token  of  that  lie  thy  soul  hath  spoken ! 
Leave  my  loneliness  unbroken,  quit  the  bust  above  my  door! 
Take  thy  beak  from  out  my  heart,  and  take  thy  form  from  off 
my  door !  ' 

Quoth  the  raven,  '  Nevermore.'  " 

That  quotation,  which,  apparently,  skips  lightly  over 
the  situation,  "  Only  this,  and  nothing  more,"  comes  from 
a  text  which  depicts  in  an  affecting  manner  the  despair 
over  the  lost  Lenore.  That  quotation  also  misleads  our 
poet  in  the  most  striking  manner.    Therefore,  she  under- 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  67 

values  the  erotic  impression  and  the  wide-reaching  effect 
of  the  commotion  caused  by  It.  It  Is  this  undervaluation, 
which  Freud  has  formulated  more  precisely  as  "  repres- 
sion," which  is  the  reason  why  the  erotic  problem  does 
not  attain  directly  conscious  treatment,  and  from  this 
there  arise  "  these  psychologic  riddles."  The  erotic  im- 
pression works  in  the  unconscious,  and,  In  Its  stead,  pushes 
symbols  forth  into  consciousness.  Thus,  one  plays  hide- 
and-seek  with  one's  self.  First,  it  Is  "  the  morning  stars 
which  sing  together";  then  "Paradise  Lost";  then  the 
erotic  yearning  clothes  itself  In  an  ecclesiastical  dress  and 
utters  dark  words  about  "  World  Creation  "  and  finally 
rises  into  a  religious  hymn  to  find  there,  at  last,  a  way  out 
into  freedom,  a  v/ay  against  which  the  censor  of  the  moral 
personality  can  oppose  nothing  more.  The  hymn  con- 
tains in  its  own  peculiar  character  the  marks  of  its  origin. 
It  thus  has  fulfilled  itself — the  "  Law  of  the  Return  of 
the  Complex."  The  night  singer,  in  this  circuitous  man- 
ner of  the  old  transference  to  the  Father-Priest,  has  be- 
come the  "  Eternal,"  the  "  Creator,"  the  God  of  Tone, 
of  Light,  of  Love. 

The  Indirect  course  of  the  libido  seems  to  be  a  way 
of  sorrow;  at  least  "Paradise  Lost"  and  the  parallel 
reference  to  Job  lead  one  to  that  conclusion.  If  we  take, 
in  addition  to  this,  the  introductory  intimation  of  the 
identification  with  Christian,  which  we  see  concludes  with 
Cyrano,  then  we  are  furnished  with  material  which  pic- 
tures the  indirect  course  of  the  libido  as  truly  a  way  of 
sorrow.  It  Is  the  same  as  when  mankind,  after  the  sinful 
fall,  had  the  burden  of  the  earthly  life  to  bear,  or  like 


68         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

the  tortures  of  Job,  who  suffered  under  the  power  of 
Satan  and  of  God,  and  who  himself,  without  suspecting  it, 
became  a  plaything  of  the  superhuman  forces  which  we 
no  longer  consider  as  metaphysical,  but  as  metapsycho- 
logical.  Faust  also  offers  us  the  same  exhibition  of 
God's  wager. 

Mephistopheles : 

What  will  3 oil  bet?    There's  still  a  chance  to  gain  him 
If  unto  me  full  leave  you  give 
Gently  upon  my  road  to  train  him! 

Satan : 

But  put  forth  thine  hand  now,  and  touch  all  that  he  hath, 
and  he  will  curse  thee  to  thy  face. — Job  i:  ii. 

While  in  Job  the  two  great  tendencies  are  character- 
ized simply  as  good  and  bad,  the  problem  in  Faust  is  a 
pronouncedly  erotic  one;  viz.,  the  battle  between  subhma- 
tion  and  eros,  in  which  the  Devil  is  strikingly  character- 
ized through  the  fitting  role  of  the  erotic  tempter.  The 
erotic  is  lacking  in  Job;  at  the  same  time  Job  is  not  con- 
scious of  the  conflict  within  his  own  soul;  he  even  con- 
tinuously disputes  the  arguments  of  his  friends  who  wish 
to  convince  him  of  evil  in  his  own  heart.  To  this  extent, 
one  might  say  that  Faust  is  considerably  more  honor- 
able since  he  openly  confesses  to  the  torments  of  his 
Goul. 

Miss  Miller  acts  like  Job;  she  says  nothing,  and  lets 
the  evil  and  the  good  come  from  the  other  world,  from 
the  metapsychologic.  Therefore,  the  identification  with 
Job  is  also  significant  in  this  respect.     A  wider,  and,  in- 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  69 

deed,  a  very  Important  analogy  remains  to  be  mentioned. 
The  creative  power,  which  love  really  is,  rightly  con- 
sidered from  the  natural  standpoint,  remains  as  the  real 
attribute  of  the  Divinity,  sublimated  from  the  erotic  im- 
pression; therefore,  in  the  poem  God  is  praised  through- 
out as  Creator. 

Job  offers  the  same  illustration.  Satan  is  the  destroyer 
of  Job's  fruitfulness.  God  is  the  fruitful  one  himself, 
therefore,  at  the  end  of  the  book,  he  gives  forth,  as  an 
expression  of  his  own  creative  power,  this  hymn,  filled 
with  lofty  poetic  beauty.  In  this  hymn,  strangely  enough, 
two  unsympathetic  representatives  of  the  animal  king- 
dom, behemoth  and  the  leviathan,  both  expressive  of  the 
crudest  force  conceivable  in  nature,  are  given  chief  con- 
sideration; the  behemoth  being  really  the  phallic  attri- 
bute of  the  God  of  Creation. 

"  Behold  now  behemoth,  which  I  made  as  well  as  thee; 
He  eateth  grass  as  an  ox. 
Lo,  now;  his  strength  is  in  his  loins, 
And  his  force  is  in  the  muscles  of  his  belly. 
He  moveth  his  tail  like  a  cedar: 
The  sinews  of  his  thighs  are  knit  together. 
His  bones  are  as  tubes  of  brass; 
His  limbs  are  like  bars  of  iron. 
He  is  the  chief  of  the  ways  of  God: 
He  only  that  made  him  giveth  him  his  sword.    .    .    . 
Behold,  if  a  river  overflow,  he  trembleth  not; 
He  is  confident  though  a  Jordan  swell  even  to  his  mouth. 
Shall  any  take  him  when  he  is  on  the  watch. 
Or  pierce  through  his  nose  with  a  snare? 
Canst  thou  draw  leviathan  with  a  fish-hook? 
Or  press  down  his  tongue  with  a  cord?  .  .  . 


70         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Lay  thy  hand  upon  him ; 

Remember  the  battle  and  do  no  more. 

None  is  so  fierce  that  dare  stir  him  up: 

Who  then  is  he  that  can  stand  before  me? 

Who  hath  first  given  unto  me,  that  I  should  repay  him? 

Wliatsoever  is  under  the  whole  heaven  is  mine." 

— Job  xl:  15-20,  23-24;  xli:  i,  8,  lO-ii. 

God  says  this  In  order  to  bring  his  power  and  omnipo- 
tence impressively  before  Job's  eyes.  God  is  like  the 
behemoth  and  the  leviathan;  the  fruitful  nature  giving 
forth  abundance, — the  untamable  wildness  and  bound- 
lessness of  nature, — and  the  overwhelming  danger  of  the 
unchained  power. "° 

But  what  has  destroyed  Job's  earthly  paradise?  The 
unchained  power  of  nature.  As  the  poet  lets  it  be  seen 
here,  God  has  simply  turned  his  other  side  outwards  for 
once;  the  side  which  man  calls  the  devil,  and  which  lets 
loose  all  the  torments  of  nature  on  Job,  naturally  for  the 
purpose  of  discipline  and  training.  The  God  who  cre- 
ated such  monstrosities,  before  whom  the  poor  weak  man 
stiffens  with  anxiety,  truly  must  hide  qualities  within  him- 
self which  are  food  for  thought.  This  God  lives  in  the 
heart,  in  the  unconscious,  in  the  realm  of  metapsychology. 
There  is  the  source  of  the  anxiety  before  the  unspeakably 
horrible,  and  of  the  strength  to  withstand  the  horrors. 
The  person,  that  is  to  say  his  conscious  "  I,"  is  like  a  play- 
thing, like  a  feather  which  is  whirled  around  by  different 
currents  of  air;  sometimes  the  sacrifice  and  sometimes  the 
sacrificer,  and  he  cannot  hinder  either.  The  Book  of  Job 
shows  us  God  at  work  both  as  creator  and  destroyer. 
Who  Is  this  God?     A  thought  which  humanity  In  every 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  71 

part  of  the  world  and  in  all  ages  has  brought  forth  from 
itself  and  always  again  anew  in  similar  forms;  a  power  in 
the  other  world  to  which  man  gives  praise,  a  power  which 
creates  as  well  as  destroys,  an  idea  necessary  to  life. 
Since,  psychologically  understood,  the  divinity  is  nothing 
else  than  a  projected  complex  of  representation  which  is 
accentuated  in  feeling  according  to  the  degree  of  religious- 
ness of  the  individual,  so  God  is  to  be  considered  as  the 
representative  of  a  certain  sum  of  energy  (libido). 
This  energy,  therefore,  appears  projected  (metaphysi- 
cally) because  it  works  from  the  unconscious  outwards, 
when  it  is  dislodged  from  there,  as  psychoanalysis  shows. 
As  I  have  earlier  made  apparent  in  the  "  Bedeutung  des 
Vaters,"  the  religious  instinct  feeds  upon  the  incestuous 
libido  of  the  infantile  period.  In  the  principal  forms 
of  religion  which  now  exist,  the  father  transference  seems 
to  be  at  least  the  moulding  influence;  in  older  religions, 
it  seems  to  be  the  influence  of  the  mother  transference 
which  creates  the  attributes  of  the  divinity.  The  attri- 
butes of  the  divinity  are  omnipotence,  a  sternly  persecut- 
ing paternalism  ruling  through  fear  (Old  Testament) 
and  a  loving  paternalism  (New  Testament).  These  are 
the  attributes  of  the  libido  in  that  wide  sense  in  which 
Freud  has  conceived  this  idea  empirically.  In  certain 
pagan  and  also  in  certain  Christian  attributes  of  divinity 
the  maternal  stands  out  strongly,  and  in  the  former  the 
animal  also  comes  into  the  greatest  prominence. ^^  Like- 
wise, the  infantile,  so  closely  interwoven  with  religious 
phantasies,  and  from  time  to  time  breaking  forth  so  vio- 
lently, is  nowhere  lacking."^    All  this  points  to  the  sources 


72         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

of  the  dynamic  states  of  religious  activity.  These  are 
those  impulses  which  in  childhood  are  withdrawn  from 
incestuous  application  through  the  intervention  of  the 
incest  barrier  and  which,  especially  at  the  time  of  puberty, 
as  a  result  of  affluxes  of  libido  coming  from  the  still  in- 
completely employed  sexuality,  are  aroused  to  their  own 
peculiar  activity.  As  is  easily  understood,  that  which  is 
valuable  in  the  God-creating  idea  is  not  the  form  but 
the  power,  the  libido.  The  primitive  power  which  Job's 
Hymn  of  Creation  vindicates,  the  unconditional  and  in- 
exorable, the  unjust  and  the  superhuman,  are  truly  and 
rightly  attributes  of  libido,  which  "  lead  us  unto  life," 
which  "  let  the  poor  be  guilty,"  and  against  which  strug- 
gle is  in  vain.  Nothing  remains  for  mankind  but  to  work 
in  harmony  with  this  will.  Nietzsche's  "  Zarathustra  " 
teaches  us  this  impressively. 

We  see  that  in  Miss  Miller  the  religious  hymn  arising 
from  the  unconscious  is  the  compensating  amend  for  the 
erotic;  it  takes  a  great  part  of  its  materials  from  the 
infantile  reminiscences  which  she  re-awakened  into  life 
by  the  introversion  of  the  libido.  Had  this  religious  cre- 
ation not  succeeded  (and  also  had  another  sublimated 
application  been  eliminated)  then  Miss  Miller  would 
have  yielded  to  the  erotic  impression,  either  to  its  natural 
consequence  or  to  a  negative  issue,  which  would  have 
replaced  the  lost  success  in  love  by  a  correspondingly, 
strong  sorrow.  It  is  well  known  that  opinions  are  much] 
divided  concerning  the  worth  of  this  issue  of  an  erotic 
conflict,  such  as  Miss  Miller  has  presented  to  us.  It  is 
thought  to  be  much  more  beautiful  to  solve  unnoticed  an 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  73 

erotic  tension,  in  the  elevated  feelings  of  religious  poetry, 
in  which  perhaps  many  other  people  can  find  joy  and 
consolation.  One  is  wrong  to  storm  against  this  con- 
ception from  the  radical  standpoint  of  fanaticism  for 
truth. 

I  think  that  one  should  view  with  philosophic  admira- 
tion the  strange  paths  of  the  libido  and  should  investi- 
gate the  purposes  of  its  circuitous  ways. 

It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  we  have  herewith  dug  up 
the  erotic  root,  and  yet  the  problem  remains  unsolved. 
Were  there  not  bound  up  with  that  a  mysterious  purpose, 
probably  of  the  greatest  biological  meaning,  then  cer- 
tainly twenty  centuries  would  not  have  yearned  for  it 
with  such  intense  longing.  Doubtless,  this  sort  of  llbidian 
current  moves  In  the  same  direction  as,  taken  in  the  widest 
sense,  did  that  ecstatic  ideal  of  the  Middle  Ages  and  of 
the  ancient  mystery  cults,  one  of  which  became  the  later 
Christianity.  There  is  to  be  seen  biologically  in  this 
ideal  an  exercise  of  psychologic  projection  (of  the  para- 
noidlan  mechanism,  as  Freud  would  express  it) ."  The 
projection  consists  in  the  repressing  of  the  conflict  into 
the  unconscious  and  the  setting  forth  of  the  repressed 
contents  Into  seeming  objectivity,  which  is  also  the  for- 
mula of  paranoia.  The  repression  serves,  as  is  well 
known,  for  the  freeing  from  a  painful  complex  from 
which  one  must  escape  by  all  means  because  its  compelling 
and  oppressing  power  is  feared.  The  repression  can  lead 
to  an  apparent  complete  suppression  which  corresponds 
to  a  strong  self-control.  Unfortunately,  however,  self- 
control  has  limits  which  are  only  too  narrowly  drawn. 


74         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Closer  observation  of  people  shows,  it  is  true,  that  calm 
is  maintained  at  the  critical  moment,  but  certain  results 
occur  which  fall  into  two  categories. 

First,  the  suppressed  effect  comes  to  the  surface  imme- 
diately afterwards;  seldom  directly,  it  is  true,  but  ordi- 
narily in  the  form  of  a  displacement  to  another  object 
(e.  g.  a  person  is,  in  official  relations,  polite,  submissive, 
patient,  and  so  on,  and  turns  his  whole  anger  loose  upon 
his  wife  or  his  subordinates). 

Second,  the  suppressed  effect  creates  compensations 
elsewhere.  For  example,  people  who  strive  for  excessive 
ethics,  who  try  always  to  think,  feel,  and  act  altruistically 
and  ideally,  avenge  themselves,  because  of  the  impossi- 
bility of  carrying  out  their  ideals,  by  subtle  maliciousness, 
which  naturally  does  not  come  into  their  own  conscious- 
ness as  such,  but  which  leads  to  misunderstandings  and 
unhappy  situations.  Apparently,  then,  all  of  these  are 
only  "  especially  unfortunate  circumstances,"  or  they  are 
the  guilt  and  malice  of  other  people,  or  they  are  tragic 
complications. 

One  is,  indeed,  freed  of  the  conscious  conflict,  never- 
theless it  lies  invisible  at  one's  feet,  and  is  stumbled  over 
at  every  step.  The  technic  of  the  apparent  suppressing 
and  forgetting  is  inadequate  because  it  is  not  possible  of 
achievement  in  the  last  analysis — it  is  in  reality  a  mere 
makeshift.  The  religious  projection  offers  a  much  more 
effectual  help.  In  this  one  keeps  the  conflict  in  sight 
(care,  pain,  anxiety,  and  so  on)  and  gives  it  over  to  a 
personality  standing  outside  of  one's  self,  the  Divinity. 
The  evangelical  command  teaches  us  this: 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  75 

"  Cast  all  your  anxiety  upon  him,  because  he  careth  for 
you." — /  Peter  v:  7. 

"  In  nothing  be  anxious;  but  in  every  thing  by  prayer  and  sup- 
plication .  .  •  let  your  requests  be  made  known  unto  God." — 
Phil.  iv:6. 

One  must  give  the  burdening  complex  of  the  soul  con- 
sciously over  to  the  Deity;  that  is  to  say,  associate  it  with 
a  definite  representation  complex  which  is  set  up  as  ob- 
jectively real,  as  a  person  who  answers  those  questions, 
for  us  unanswerable.  To  this  inner  demand  belongs  the 
candid  avowal  of  sin  and  the  Christian  humility  presum- 
ing such  an  avowal.  Both  are  for  the  purpose  of  making 
it  possible  for  one  to  examine  one's  self  and  to  know  one's 
self."*  One  may  consider  the  mutual  avowal  of  sins  as 
the  most  powerful  support  to  this  work  of  education 
("  Confess,  therefore,  your  sins  one  to  another." — ^James 
v:  16).  These  measures  aim  at  a  conscious  recognition 
of  the  conflicts,  thoroughly  psychoanalytic,  which  is  also 
a  conditio  sine  qua  non  of  the  psychoanalytic  condition 
of  recovery.  Just  as  psychoanalysis  in  the  hands  of  the 
physician,  a  secular  method,  sets  up  the  real  object  of 
transference  as  the  one  to  take  over  the  conflicts  of  the 
oppressed  and  to  solve  them,  so  the  Christian  religion  sets 
up  the  Saviour,  considered  as  real;  "  In  whom  we  have 
redemption  through  his  blood,  the  forgiveness  of 
sins.  .  .  ."  (Eph.  1:7  and  Col.  i:i4.)^^  He  is  the 
deliverer  and  redeemer  of  our  guilt,  a  God  who  stands 
above  sin,  "  who  did  no  sin,  neither  was  guile  found  in 
his  mouth  "  (Pet.  ii:  22).  "Who  his  own  self  bare  our 
sins  in  his  body  upon  the  tree  "  (Pet.  ii :  24).     "There- 


76         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

fore  Christ  has  been  sacrificed  once  to  take  away  the 
sins  of  many"  (Heb.  ix:28).  The  God,  thus  thought 
of,  is  distinguished  as  innocent  in  himself  and  as  the 
self-sacrificer.  (These  qualities  are  true  also  for  that 
amount  of  energy — ^libido — which  belongs  to  the  rep- 
resentation complex  designated  the  Redeemer.)  The 
conscious  projection  towards  which  the  Christian  educa- 
tion aims,  offers,  therefore,  a  double  benefit:  first,  one  is 
kept  conscious  of  the  conflict  (sins)  of  two  opposing 
tendencies  mutually  resistant,  and  through  this  one  pre- 
vents a  known  trouble  from  becoming,  by  means  of  re- 
pressing and  forgetting,  an  unknown  and  therefore  so 
much  more  tormenting  sorrow.  Secondly,  one  lightens 
one's  burden  by  surrendering  it  to  him  to  whom  all  solu- 
tions are  known.  One  must  not  forget  that  the  individual 
psychologic  roots  of  the  Deity,  set  up  as  real  by  the  pious, 
are  concealed  from  him,  and  that  he,  although  unaware 
of  this,  still  bears  the  burden  alone  and  is  still  alone  with 
his  conflict.  This  delusion  would  lead  infallibly  to  the 
speedy  breaking  up  of  the  system,  for  Nature  cannot  in- 
definitely be  deceived,  but  the  powerful  institution  of 
Christianity  meets  this  situation.  The  command  in  the 
book  of  James  is  the  best  expression  of  the  psychologic 
significance  of  this:  "  Bear  ye  one  another's  burdens."  ^® 
This  is  emphasized  as  especially  important  in  order 
to  preserve  society  upright  through  mutual  love  (Trans- 
ference) ;  the  Pauline  writings  leave  no  doubt  about  this: 

"Through  love  be  servants  one  to  another." — Gal.  v:  13. 

"  Let  love  of  the  brethren  continue." — Heb.  xiii:  i. 

"  And  let  us  consider  one  another  to  provoke  unto  love  and 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  77 

good   works.      Not   forgetting   our  own   assembling   together   as 
is  the  custom  of  some,  but  exhorting  one  another." — Heb.  x:  24-25. 

We  might  say  that  the  real  transference  taught  in  the 
Christian  community  is  the  condition  absolutely  necessary 
for  the  efiicacy  of  the  miracle  of  redemption;  the  first 
letter  of  John  comes  out  frankly  with  this : 

"  He  that  loveth  his  brother  abideth  in  the  light." — I  John 
ii:  10. 

"  If  we  love  one  another,  God  abideth  in  us." — /  John  iv:  12. 

The  Deity  continues  to  be  efficacious  in  the  Christian 
religion  only  upon  the  foundation  of  brotherly  love. 
Consequently,  here  too  the  mystery  of  redemption  is  the 
unresisting  real  transference."  One  may  properly  ask 
one's  self,  for  what  then  is  the  Deity  useful,  if  his  efficacy 
consists  only  in  the  real  transference?  To  this  also  the 
evangelical  message  has  a  striking  answer: 

"  Men  are  all  brothers  in  Christ." 

"  So  Christ  also,  having  been  once  offered  to  bear  the  sins 
of  many,  shall  appear  a  second  time  apart  from  sin  to  them 
that  wait  for  him  unto  salvation." — Heb.  ix:  28. 

The  condition  of  transference  among  brothers  is  to  be 
such  as  between  man  and  Christ,  a  spiritual  one.  As  the 
history  of  ancient  cults  and  certain  Christian  sects  shows, 
this  explanation  of  the  Christian  religion  is  an  especially 
Important  one  biologically,  for  the  psychologic  intimacy 
creates  certain  shortened  ways  between  men  which  lead 
only  too  easily  to  that  from  which  Christianity  seeks  to 
release  them,  namely  to  the  sexual  relation  with  all  those 


78         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

consequences  and  necessities  under  which  the  really  al- 
ready highly  civilized  man  had  to  suffer  at  the  beginning 
of  our  Christian  era.  For  just  as  the  ancient  religious 
experience  was  regarded  distinctly  as  a  bodily  union  with 
the  Deity,"^  just  so  was  worship  permeated  with  sexual- 
ity of  every  kind.  Sexuality  lay  only  too  close  to  the 
relations  of  people  with  each  other.  The  moral  degen- 
eracy of  the  first  Christian  century  produced  a  moral  re- 
action arising  out  of  the  darkness  of  the  lowest  strata  of 
society  which  was  expressed  in  the  second  and  third  cen- 
turies at  its  purest  in  the  two  antagonistic  religions,  Chris- 
tianity on  the  one  side,  and  Mithracism  on  the  other. 
These  religions  strove  after  precisely  that  higher  form 
of  social  intercourse  symbolic  of  a  projected  "  become 
flesh"  idea  (logos),  whereby  all  those  strongest  impul- 
sive energies  of  the  archaic  man,  formerly  plunging  him 
from  one  passion  into  another, ^^  and  which  seemed  to  the 
ancients  like  the  compulsion  of  the  evil  constellations,  as 
Eifxapi^evr],'*  and  which  in  the  sense  of  later  ages  might 
be  translated  as  the  driving  force  of  the  libido,^°  the 
dvvajAi?  Hivr}riKr\\  of  Zeno,  could  be  made  use  of  for 
social  preservation.^^ 

It  may  be  assumed  most  certainly  that  the  domestica- 
tion of  humanity  has  cost  the  greatest  sacrifices.  An  age 
which  produced  the  stoical  ideal  must  certainly  have 
known  why  and  against  what  it  was  created.  The  age 
of  Nero  serves  to  set  off  effectually  the  famous  extracts 
from  the  forty-first  letter  of  Seneca  to  Lucilius : 

*  Destiny. 

t  Power  for  putting  in  motion. 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  79 

"  One  drags  the  other  into  error,  and  how  can  we  attain  to 
salvation  when  no  one  bids  us  halt,  when  all  the  world  drives 
us  in  deeper?  " 

"  Do  you  ever  come  across  a  man  unafraid  in  danger,  un- 
touched by  desires,  happy  in  misfortune,  peaceful  in  the  midst 
of  a  storm,  elevated  above  ordinary  mortals,  on  the  same  plane 
as  the  gods,  does  not  reverence  seize  you  ?  Are  you  not  compelled 
to  say,  '  Such  an  exalted  being  is  certainly  something  different 
from  the  miserable  body  which  he  inhabits  '  ?  A  divine  strength 
rules  there,  such  an  excellent  mind,  full  of  moderation,  raised  above 
all  trivialities,  which  smiles  at  that  which  we  others  fear  or  strive 
after:  a  heavenly  power  animates  such  a  person,  a  thing  of  this 
kind  does  not  exist  without  the  cooperation  of  a  deity.  The 
largest  part  of  such  a  being  belongs  to  the  region  from  which  he 
came.  Just  as  the  sun's  rays  touch  the  earth  in  reality  and  yet 
are  at  home  only  there  from  whence  they  come,  so  an  eminent 
holy  man  associates  with  us.  He  is  sent  to  us  that  we  may 
learn  to  know  the  divine  better,  and  although  with  us,  still  really 
belongs  to  his  original  home.  He  looks  thither  and  reaches  to- 
wards it;  among  us  he  walks  as  an  exalted  being." 

The  people  of  this  age  had  grown  ripe  for  identifica- 
tion with  the  Ad/o?  (word)  "become  flesh,"  for  the 
founding  of  a  new  fellowship,  united  by  one  idea,^^  in  the 
name  of  which  people  could  love  each  other  and  call 
each  other  brothers.''^  The  old  vague  idea  of  a  fxeairr]? 
(Messiah),  of  a  mediator  in  whose  name  new  ways  of 
love  would  be  created,  became  a  fact,  and  with  that  hu- 
manity made  an  immense  step  forward.  This  had  not 
been  brought  about  by  a  speculative,  completely  sophisti- 
cated philosophy,  but  by  an  elementary  need  in  the  mass  of 
people  vegetating  in  spiritual  darkness.  The  profoundest 
necessities  had  evidently  driven  them  towards  that,  since 
humanity  did  not  thrive  in  a  state  of  dissoluteness.^*    The 


8o        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

meaning  of  those  cults — I  speak  of  Christianity  and 
Mithracism — is  clear;  it  is  a  moral  restraint  of  animal 
impulses."  The  dynamic  appearance  of  both  rehgions 
betrays  something  of  that  enormous  feeling  of  redemp- 
tion which  animated  the  first  disciples  and  which  we  to- 
day scarcely  know  how  to  appreciate,  for  these  old  truths 
are  empty  to  us.  Most  certainly  we  should  still  under- 
stand it,  had  our  customs  even  a  breath  of  ancient  brutal- 
ity, for  we  can  hardly  realize  in  this  day  the  whirlwinds 
of  the  unchained  libido  which  roared  through  the  ancient 
Rome  of  the  Caesars.  The  civilized  man  of  the  present 
day  seems  very  far  removed  from  that.  He  has  become 
merely  neurotic.  So  for  us  the  necessities  which  brought 
forth  Christianity  have  actually  been  lost,  since  we  no 
longer  understand  their  meaning.  We  do  not  know 
against  what  it  had  to  protect  us.^^  For  enlightened  peo- 
ple, the  so-called  religiousness  has  already  approached 
very  close  to  a  neurosis.  In  the  past  two  thousand  years 
Christianity  has  done  its  work  and  has  erected  barriers 
of  repression,  which  protect  us  from  the  sight  of  our 
own  "  sinfulness."  The  elementary  emotions  of  the 
libido  have  come  to  be  unknown  to  us,  for  they  are  car- 
ried on  in  the  unconscious;  therefore,  the  belief  which 
combats  them  has  become  hollow  and  empty.  Let  who- 
ever does  not  believe  that  a  mask  covers  our  religion,  ob- 
tain an  impression  for  himself  from  the  appearance  of 
our  modern  churches,  from  which  style  and  art  have  long 
since  fled. 

With  this  we  turn  back  to  the  question  from  which  we 
digressed,  namely,  whether  or  not  Miss  Miller  has  ere- 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  8i 

ated  something  valuable  with  her  poem.  If  we  bear  in 
mind  under  what  psychologic  or  moral  conditions  Chris- 
tianity came  into  existence ;  that  is  to  say,  at  a  time  when 
fierce  brutality  was  an  every-day  spectacle,  then  we  under- 
stand the  religious  seizure  of  the  whole  personality  and 
the  worth  of  that  religion  which  defended  the  people  of 
the  Roman  culture  against  the  visible  storms  of  wicked- 
ness. It  was  not  difficult  for  those  people  to  remain  con- 
scious of  sin,  for  they  saw  it  every  day  spread  out  before 
their  eyes.  The  religious  product  was  at  that  time  the 
accomplishment  of  the  total  personality.  Miss  Miller  not 
only  undervalues  her  "  sins,"  but  the  connection  between 
the  "  depressing  and  unrelenting  need  "  and  her  religious 
product  has  even  escaped  her.  Thus  her  poetical  crea- 
tion completely  loses  the  living  value  of  a  religious 
product.  It  is  not  m.uch  more  than  a  sentimental  trans- 
formation of  the  erotic  which  is  secretly  carried  out  close 
to  consciousness  and  principally  possesses  the  same  worth 
as  the  manifest  content  of  the  dream  "  with  its  uncertain 
and  delusive  perishableness.  Thus  the  poem  is  properly 
only  a  dream  become  audible. 

To  the  degree  that  the  modern  consciousness  is  eagerly 
busied  with  things  of  a  wholly  other  sort  than  religion, 
religion  and  its  object,  original  sin,  have  stepped  into  the 
background;  that  is  to  say,  into  the  unconscious  in  great 
part.  Therefore,  today  man  believes  neither  in  the  one 
nor  in  the  other.  Consequently  the  Freudian  school  is  ac- 
cused of  an  impure  phantasy,  and  yet  one  might  convince 
one's  self  very  easily  with  a  rather  fleeting  glance  at  the 
history  of  ancient  religions  and  morals  as  to  what  kind 


82         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

of  demons  are  harbored  in  the  human  soul.  With  this 
disbehef  in  the  crudeness  of  human  nature  is  bound  up 
the  disbelief  in  the  power  of  religion.  The  phenomenon, 
well  known  to  every  psychoanalyst,  of  the  unconscious 
transformation  of  an  erotic  conflict  into  religious  activity 
is  something  ethically  wholly  worthless  and  nothing  but 
an  hysterical  production.  Whoever,  on  the  other  hand, 
to  his  conscious  sin  just  as  consciously  places  religion  in 
opposition,  does  something  the  greatness  of  which  can- 
not be  denied.  This  can  be  verified  by  a  backv/ard  glance 
over  history.  Such  a  procedure  is  sound  religion.  The 
unconscious  recasting  of  the  erotic  into  something  re- 
ligious lays  itself  open  to  the  reproach  of  a  sentimental 
and  ethically  worthless  pose. 

By  means  of  the  secular  practice  of  the  naive  projection 
which  is,  as  we  have  seen,  nothing  else  than  a  veiled  or 
indirect  real-transference  (through  the  spiritual,  through 
the  logos).  Christian  training  has  produced  a  widespread 
weakening  of  the  animal  nature  so  that  a  great  part  of 
the  strength  of  the  impulses  could  be  set  free  for  the 
work  of  social  preservation  and  fruitfulness.^^  This 
abundance  of  libido,  to  make  use  of  this  singular  ex- 
pression, pursues  with  a  budding  renaissance  (for  ex- 
ample Petrarch)  a  course  which  outgoing  antiquity  had 
already  sketched  out  as  religious;  viz.,  the  way  of  the 
transference  to  nature."*^  The  transformation  of  this 
libidinous  Interest  is  in  great  part  due  to  the  Mithraic 
worship,  which  was  a  nature  religion  in  the  best  sense  of 
the  word;^°  while  the  primitive  Christians  exhibited 
throughout  an  antagonistic  attitude  to  the  beauties  of  this 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  83 

world."    I  remember  the  passage  of  St,  Augustine  men- 
tioned by  J.  Burkhardt: 

"  Men  draw  thither  to  admire  the  heights  of  the  mountains 
and  the  powerful  waves  of  the  sea — and  to  turn  away  from 
themselves." 

The  foremost  authority  on  the  Mithraic  cult,  Franz 
Cumont,^^  says  as  follows: 

"  The  gods  were  everywhere  and  mingled  in  all  the  events  of 
daily  life.  The  fire  which  cooked  the  means  of  nourishment  for 
the  believers  and  which  warmed  them ;  the  water  which  quenched 
their  thirst  and  cleansed  them;  also  the  air  which  they  breathed, 
and  the  day  which  shone  for  them,  were  the  objects  of  their 
homage.  Perhaps  no  religion  has  given  to  its  adherents  in  so 
large  a  degree  as  Mithracism  opportunity  for  prayer  and  motive 
for  devotion.  When  the  initiated  betook  himself  in  the  evening 
to  the  sacred  grotto  concealed  in  the  solitude  of  the  forest,  at 
every  step  new  sensations  awakened  in  his  heart  some  mystical 
emotion.  The  stars  that  shone  in  the  sky,  the  wind  that  whispered 
in  the  foliage,  the  spring  or  brook  which  hastened  murmuring  to 
the  valley,  even  the  earth  which  he  trod  under  his  feet,  were  in 
his  eyes  divine;  and  all  surrounding  nature  a  worshipful  fear  of 
the  infinite  forces  that  swayed  the  universe." 

These  fundamental  thoughts  of  Mithracism,  which, 
like  so  much  else  of  the  ancient  spiritual  life,  arose  again 
from  their  grave  during  the  renaissance  are  to  be  found 
in  the  beautiful  words  of  Seneca :  " 

"  When  you  enter  a  grove  peopled  with  ancient  trees,  higher 
than  the  ordinary,  and  whose  boughs  are  so  closely  interwoven 
that  the  sky  cannot  be  seen,  the  stately  shadows  of  the  wood,  the 
privacy  of  the  place,  and  the  awful  gloom  cannot  but  strike  you, 
as  with  the  presence  of  a  deity,  or  when  we  see  some  cave  at 
the  foot  of  a  mountain  penetrating  the  rocks,  not  made  by  human 


84         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

hands,  but  hollowed  out  to  great  depths  by  nature;  it  fills  the 
mind  with  a  religious  fear;  we  venerate  the  fountain-heads  of 
great  rivers;  the  sudden  eruption  of  a  vast  body  of  water  from 
the  secret  places  of  the  earth,  obtains  an  altar:  we  adore  likewise 
the  springs  of  warm  baths,  and  either  the  opaque  quality  or 
immense  depths,  hath  made  some  lakes  sacred." 

All  this  disappeared  in  the  transitory  world  of  the 
Christian,  only  to  break  forth  much  later  when  the 
thought  of  mankind  had  achieved  that  independence  of 
the  idea  which  could  resist  the  aesthetic  impression,  so  that 
thought  was  no  longer  fettered  by  the  emotional  effects 
of  the  impression,  but  could  rise  to  reflective  observation. 
Thus  man  entered  Into  a  new  and  Independent  relation  to 
nature  whereby  the  foundation  was  laid  for  natural  science 
and  technique.  With  that,  however,  there  entered  In  for 
the  first  time  a  displacement  of  the  weight  of  Interest; 
there  arose  again  real-transference  which  has  reached  Its 
greatest  development  In  our  time.  Materialistic  Interest 
has  everywhere  become  paramount.  Therefore,  the 
realms  of  the  spirit,  where  earlier  the  greatest  conflicts 
and  developments  took  place,  lie  deserted  and  fallow;  the 
world  has  not  only  lost  Its  God  as  the  sentimentalists  of 
the  nineteenth  century  bewail,  but  also  to  some  extent  has 
lost  Its  soul  as  well.  One,  therefore,  cannot  wonder  that 
the  discoveries  and  doctrines  of  the  Freudian  school,  with 
their  wholly  psychologic  views,  meet  with  an  almost  uni- 
versal disapproval.  Through  the  change  of  the  centre  of 
interest  from  the  Inner  to  the  outer  world,  the  knowledge 
of  nature  has  Increased  enormously  In  comparison  with 
that  of  earlier  times.  By  this  the  anthropomorphic  con- 
ception of  the  religious  dogmas  has  been  definitely  thrown 


THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  85 

open  to  question;  therefore,  the  present-day  religions 
can  only  with  the  greatest  difficulty  close  their  eyes  to  this 
fact;  for  not  only  has  the  intense  interest  been  diverted 
from  the  Christian  religion,  but  criticism  and  the  neces- 
sary correction  have  increased  correspondingly.  The 
Christian  religion  seems  to  have  fulfilled  its  great  bio- 
logical purpose,  in  so  far  as  we  are  able  to  judge.  It  has 
led  human  thought  to  independence,  and  has  lost  its  sig- 
nificance, therefore,  to  a  yet  undetermined  extent;  in  any 
case  its  dogmatic  contents  have  become  related  to  Mith- 
racism.  In  consideration  of  the  fact  that  this  religion 
has  rendered,  nevertheless,  inconceivable  service  to  edu- 
cation, one  cannot  reject  it  "  eo  ipso  "  today.  It  seems 
to  me  that  we  might  still  make  use  in  some  way  of  its 
form  of  thought,  and  especially  of  its  great  wisdom  of 
life,  which  for  two  thousand  years  has  been  proven  to 
be  particularly  efficacious.  The  stumbling  block  is  the 
unhappy  combination  of  religion  and  morality.  That 
must  be  overcome.  There  still  remain  traces  of  this  strife 
in  the  soul,  the  lack  of  which  in  a  human  being  is  re- 
luctantly felt.  It  is  hard  to  say  in  what  such  things  con- 
sist; for  this,  ideas  as  well  as  words  are  lacking.  If,  in 
spite  of  that,  I  attempt  to  say  something  about  it,  I  do 
it  parabolically,  using  Seneca's  words  :  ^* 

"  Nothing  can  be  more  commendable  and  beneficial  if  you  per- 
severe in  the  pursuit  of  wisdom.  It  is  what  would  be  ridiculous 
to  wish  for  when  it  is  in  your  power  to  attain  it.  There  is  no 
need  to  lift  up  your  hands  to  Heaven,  or  to  pray  the  servant  of 
the  temple  to  admit  you  to  the  ear  of  the  idol  that  your  prayers 
may  be  heard  the  better.  God  is  near  thee;  he  is  with  thee. 
Yes,   Lucilius,   a  holy  spirit   resides  within   us,   the   observer  of 


86         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

good  and  evil,  and  our  constant  guardian.  And  as  we  treat 
him,  he  treats  us;  no  good  man  is  without  a  God.  Could  any  one 
ever  rise  above  the  power  of  fortune  without  his  assistance?  It 
is  he  that  inspires  us  with  thoughts,  upright,  just  and  pure.  We 
do  not,  indeed,  pretend  to  say  what  God;  but  that  a  God  dwells 
in  the  breast  of  every  good  man  is  certain." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH 

A  LITTLE  later  Miss  Miller  travelled  from  Geneva  to 
Paris.     She  says: 

"  My  weariness  on  the  railway  was  so  great  that  I  could 
hardly  sleep  an  hour.  It  was  terrifically  hot  in  the  ladies' 
carriage." 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  she  noticed  a  moth  that 
flew  against  the  light  in  her  compartment.  She  then  tried 
to  go  to  sleep  again.  Suddenly  the  following  poem  took 
possession  of  her  mind. 

The  Moth  to  the  Sun 

"  I  longed  for  thee  when  first  I  crawled  to  consciousness. 
My  dreams  were  all  of  thee  when  in  the  chrysalis  I  lay. 
Oft  myriads  of  my  kind  beat  out  their  lives 
Against  some  feeble  spark  once  caught  from  thee. 
And  one  hour  more — and  my  poor  life  is  gone; 
Yet  my  last  effort,  as  my  first  desire,  shall  be 
But  to  approach  thy  glory;  then,  having  gained 
One  raptured  glance,  I'll  die  content. 
For  I,  the  source  of  beauty,  warmth  and  life 
Have   in  his  perfect  splendor  once  beheld." 

Before  we  go  into  the  material  which  Miss  Miller 
offers  us  for  the  understanding  of  the  poem,  we  will 
again  cast  a  glance  over  the  psychologic  situation  in  which 
the  poem  originatea.     Some  months  or  weeks  appear  to 

87 


88         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

have  elapsed  since  the  last  direct  manifestation  of  the 
unconscious  that  Miss  Miller  reported  to  us;  about  this 
period  we  have  had  no  information.  We  learn  nothing 
about  the  moods  and  phantasies  of  this  time.  If  one 
might  draw  a  conclusion  from  this  silence  it  would  be 
presumably  that  in  the  time  which  elapsed  between  the 
two  poems,  really  nothing  of  importance  had  happened, 
and  that,  therefore,  this  poem  is  again  but  a  voiced  frag- 
ment of  the  unconscious  working  of  the  complex  stretch- 
ing out  over  months  and  years.  It  is  highly  probable  that 
It  Is  concerned  with  the  same  complex  as  before.^  The 
earlier  product,  a  hymn  of  creation  full  of  hope,  has, 
however,  but  little  similarity  to  the  present  poem.  The 
poem  lying  before  us  has  a  truly  hopeless,  melancholy 
character;  moth  and  sun,  two  things  which  never  meet. 
One  must  in  fairness  ask,  is  a  moth  really  expected  to 
rise  to  the  sun?  We  know  indeed  the  proverbial  saying 
about  the  moth  that  flew  into  the  light  and  singed  its 
wings,  but  not  the  legend  of  the  moth  that  strove  towards 
the  sun.  Plainly,  here,  two  things  are  connected  in  her 
thoughts  that  do  not  belong  together;  first,  the  moth 
which  fluttered  around  the  light  so  long  that  it  burnt 
itself;  and  then,  the  idea  of  a  small  ephemeral  being, 
something  like  the  day  fly,  which,  in  lamentable  contrast 
to  the  eternity  of  the  stars,  longs  for  an  imperishable 
daylight.     This  idea  reminds  one  of  Faust: 

"  Mark  how,  beneath  the  evening  sunlight's  glow 
The  green-embosomed  houses  glitter; 
The  glow  retreats,  done  is  the  day  of  toil, 
It  vonder  hastes,  new  fields  of  life  exploring; 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  89 

Ah,  that  no  wing  can  lift  me  from  the  soil 

Upon  its  track  to  follow,  follow  soaring! 

Then  would  I  see  eternal  Evening  gild 

The  silent  world  beneath  me  glowing.  .   .   . 

Yet,  finally,  the  weary  god  is  sinking; 

The  new-born  impulse  fires  my  mind, — 

I  hasten  on,  his  beams  eternal  drinking, 

The  day  before  me  and  the  night  behind. 

Above  me  heaven  unfurled,  the  floor  of  waves  beneath  me, — 

A  glorious  dream!  though  now  the  glories  fade. 

Alas!  the  wings  that  lift  the  mind  no  aid 

Of  wings  to  lift  the  body  can  bequeath  me." 

Not  long  afterwards,  Faust  sees  "  the  black  dog  roving 
there  through  cornfields  and  stubble,"  the  dog  who  is  the 
same  as  the  devil,  the  tempter,  in  whose  hellish  fires 
Faust  has  singed  his  wings.  When  he  believed  that  he 
was  expressing  his  great  longing  for  the  beauty  of  the 
sun  and  the  earth,  "  he  went  astray  thereover  "  and  fell 
into  the  hands  of  "  the  Evil  One." 

"  Yes,  resolute  to  reach  some  brighter  distance, 
On  earth's  fair  sun  I  turn  my  back." 

This  is  what  Faust  had  said  shortly  before,  in  true 
recognition  of  the  state  of  affairs.  The  honoring  of  the 
beauty  of  nature  led  the  Christian  of  the  Middle  Ages  to 
pagan  thoughts  which  lay  in  an  antagonistic  relation  to 
his  conscious  religion,  just  as  once  Mithracism  was  in 
threatening  competition  with  Christianity,  for  Satan  often 
disguises  himself  as  an  angel  of  light.^ 

The  longing  of  Faust  became  his  ruin.  The  longing 
for  the  Beyond  had  brought  as  a  consequence  a  loathing 
for  life,  and  he  stood  on  the  brink  of  self-destruction.^ 


90        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

The  longing  for  the  beauty  of  this  world  led  him  anew 
to  ruin,  into  doubt  and  pain,  even  to  Marguerite's  tragic 
death.  His  mistake  was  that  he  followed  after  both 
worlds  with  no  check  to  the  driving  force  of  his  libido, 
like  a  man  of  violent  passion.  Faust  portrays  once  more 
the  folk-psychologic  conflict  of  the  beginning  of  the 
Christian  era,  but  what  is  noteworthy,  in  a  reversed 
order. 

Against  what  fearful  powers  of  seduction  Christ  had 
to  defend  himself  by  means  of  his  hope  of  the  absolute 
world  beyond,  may  be  seen  in  the  example  of  Alypius  in 
Augustine.  If  any  of  us  had  been  living  in  that  period 
of  antiquity,  he  would  have  seen  clearly  that  that  culture 
must  inevitably  collapse  because  humanity  revolted 
against  it.  It  is  well  known  that  even  before  the  spread 
of  Christianity  a  remarkable  expectation  of  redemption 
had  taken  possession  of  mankind.  The  following 
eclogue  of  Virgil  might  well  be  a  result  of  this  mood: 

"  Ultima  Cumsi  venit  jam  carminis  astas;* 
Magnus  ab  integro  Sa;clorum  nascitur  ordo, 
Jam  redit  et  Virgo,*  redeunt  Saturnia  regna; 

*  "  The  last  age  of  Cumean  prophecy  has  come  already ! 
Over  again  the  great  series  of  the  ages  commences: 
Now  too  returns  the  Virgin,  return  the  Saturnian  kingdoms; 
Now  at  length  a  new  progeny  is  sent  down  from  high  Heaven. 
Only,  chaste  Lucina,  to  the  boy  at  his  birth  be  propitious, 
In  whose  time  first  the  age  of  iron  shall  discontinue, 
And  in  the  whole  world  a  golden  age  arise:  now  rules  thy  Apollo. 

Under  thy  guidance,  if  any  traces  of  our  guilt  continue, 
Rendered  harmless,  they  shall  set  the  earth  free  from  fear  forever, 
He  shall  partake  of  the  life  of  the  gods,  and  he  shall  see 
Heroes  mingled  with  gods,  and  he  too  shall  be  seen  by  them. 
And  he  shall  rule  a  peaceful  world  with  his  father's  virtues." 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  91 

Jam  nova  progenies  cslo  demittitur  alto. 
Tu  mode  nascent!  puero,  quo  ferrea  primum 
Desinet  ac  toto  surget  gens  aurea  mundo, 
Casta  fave  Lucina:  tuus  jam  regnat  Apollo. 

"  Te  duce,   si  qua  manent  sceleris  vestigia  nostri, 
Inrita  perpetua  solvent  formidine  terras. 
Ille  deum  vitam  accipiet  divisque  videbit 
Permixtos  heroas  et  ipse  videbitur  illis, 
Pacatumque  reget  patriis  virtutibus  orbem."  ^ 

The  turning  to  asceticism  resulting  from  the  general 
expansion  of  Christianity  brought  about  a  new  misfortune 
to  many:  monasticism  and  the  life  of  the  anchorite.® 

Faust  takes  the  reverse  course;  for  him  the  ascetic 
Ideal  means  death.  He  struggles  for  freedom  and  wins 
life,  at  the  same  time  giving  himself  over  to  the  Evil  One; 
but  through  this  he  becomes  the  bringer  of  death  to  her 
whom  he  loves  most,  Marguerite.  He  tears  himself 
away  from  pain  and  sacrifices  his  life  in  unceasing  useful 
work,  through  which  he  saves  many  lives.'  His  double 
mission  as  saviour  and  destroyer  has  already  been  hinted 
in  a  preliminary  manner: 

JVagner: 
With  what  a  feeling,  thou  great  man,  must  thou 
Receive  the  people's  honest  veneration! 

Faust : 
Thus  we,  our  hellish  boluses  compounding, 
Among  these  vales  and  hills  surrounding, 
Worse  than  the  pestilence,  have  passed. 
Thousands  were  done  to  death  from  poison  of  my  giving ; 
And  I  must  hear,  by  all  the  living, 
The  shameless  murderers  praised  at  last! 


92         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

A  parallel  to  this  double  role  is  that  text  in  the  Gospel 
of  Matthew  which  has  become  historically  significant: 

"  I  came  not  to  send  peace,  but  a  sword." — Matt,  x:  34. 

Just  this  constitutes  the  deep  significance  of  Goethe's 
Faust,  that  he  clothes  in  words  a  problem  of  modern 
man  which  has  been  turning  in  restless  slumber  since  the 
Renaissance,  just  as  was  done  by  the  drama  of  Oedipus 
for  the  Hellenic  sphere  of  culture.  What  is  to  be  the  way 
out  between  the  Scylla  of  renunciation  of  the  world  and 
the  Charybdis  of  the  acceptance  of  the  world? 

The  hopeful  tone,  voiced  in  the  "  Hymn  to  the  God 
of  Creation,"  cannot  continue  very  long  with  our  author. 
The  pose  simply  promises,  but  does  not  fulfil.  The  old 
longing  will  come  again,  for  it  is  a  peculiarity  of  all  com- 
plexes worked  over  merely  in  the  unconscious  *  that  they 
lose  nothing  of  their  original  amount  of  affect.  Mean- 
while, their  outward  manifestations  can  change  almost 
endlessly.  One  might  therefore  consider  the  first  poem 
as  an  unconscious  longing  to  solve  the  conflict  through 
positive  religiousness,  somewhat  in  the  same  manner  as 
they  of  the  earlier  centuries  decided  their  conscious  con- 
flicts by  opposing  to  them  the  religious  standpoint.  This 
wish  does  not  succeed.  Now  with  the  second  poem  there 
follows  a  second  attempt  which  turns  out  in  a  decidedly 
more  material  way;  its  thought  is  unequivocal.  Only 
once  "  having  gained  one  raptured  glance  .  .  ."  and 
then — to  die. 

From  the  realms  of  the  religious  world,  the  attention, 
lust  as  in  Faust,®  turns  towards  the  sun  of  this  world, 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  93 

and  already  there  is  something  mingled  with  it  which 
has  another  sense,  that  is  to  say,  the  moth  which  fluttered 
so  long  around  the  light  that  it  burnt  its  wings. 

We  now  pass  to  that  which  Miss  Miller  offers  for  the 
better  understanding  of  the  poem.     She  says : 

"  This  small  poem  made  a  profound  impression  upon  me.  I 
could  not,  of  course,  find  immediately  a  sufficiently  clear  and  di- 
rect explanation  for  it.  However,  a  few  days  later  when  I  once 
more  read  a  certain  philosophical  work,  which  I  had  read  in 
Berlin  the  previous  winter,  and  which  I  had  enjoyed  very  much, 
(I  was  reading  it  aloud  to  a  friend),  I  came  across  the  following 
words:  'La  meme  aspiration  passionnee  de  la  mite  vers  I'etoile, 
de  I'homme  vers  Dieu.'  (The  same  passionate  longing  of  the 
moth  for  the  star,  of  man  for  God.)  I  had  forgotten  this  sentence 
entirely,  but  it  seemed  very  clear  to  me  that  precisely  these  words 
had  reappeared  in  my  hypnagogic  poem.  In  addition  to  that  it 
occurred  to  me  that  a  play  seen  some  years  previously,  '  La  Mite 
et  La  Flamme,'  was  a  further  possible  cause  of  the  poem.  It  is 
easy  to  see  how  often  the  word  '  moth  '  had  been  impressed  upon 
me. 

The  deep  impression  made  by  the  poem  upon  the 
author  shows  that  she  put  into  it  a  large  amount  of  love. 
In  the  expression  "  aspiration  passionnee  "  we  meet  the 
passionate  longing  of  the  moth  for  the  star,  of  man  for 
God,  and  indeed,  the  moth  is  Miss  Miller  herself.  Her 
last  observation  that  the  word  "  moth  "  was  often  im- 
pressed upon  her  shows  how  often  she  had  noticed  the 
word  "  moth  "  as  applicable  to  herself.  Her  longing  for 
God  resembles  the  longing  of  the  moth  for  the  "star." 
The  reader  will  recall  that  this  expression  has  already  had 
a  place  in  the  earlier  material,  "  when  the  morning  stars 
sang  together,"  that  is  to  say,  the  ship's  officer  who  sings 


94         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

on  deck  in  the  night  watch.  The  passionate  longing  for 
God  is  the  same  as  that  longing  for  the  singing  morning 
stars.  It  was  pointed  out  at  great  length  in  the  fore- 
going chapter  that  this  analogy  is  to  be  expected:  "Sic 
parvis  componere  magna  solebam." 

It  is  shameful  or  exalted  just  as  one  chooses,  that  the 
divine  longing  of  humanity,  which  is  really  the  first  thing 
to  make  it  human,  should  be  brought  into  connection  with 
an  erotic  phantasy.  Such  a  comparison  jars  upon  the  finer 
feelings.  Therefore,  one  is  inclined  in  spite  of  the  un- 
deniable facts  to  dispute  the  connection.  An  Italian 
steersman  with  brown  hair  and  black  moustache,  and  the 
loftiest,  dearest  conception  of  humanity!  These  two 
things  cannot  be  brought  together;  against  this  not  only 
our  religious  feelings  revolt,  but  our  taste  also  rebels. 

It  would  certainly  be  unjust  to  make  a  comparison  of 
the  two  objects  as  concrete  things  since  they  are  so  hetero- 
geneous. One  loves  a  Beethoven  sonata  but  one  loves 
caviar  also.  It  would  not  occur  to  any  one  to  liken  the 
sonata  to  caviar.  It  is  a  common  error  for  one  to  judge 
the  longing  according  to  the  quality  of  the  object.  The 
appetite  of  the  gourmand  which  is  only  satisfied  with 
goose  liver  and  quail  is  no  more  distinguished  than  the 
appetite  of  the  laboring  man  for  corned  beef  and  cabbage. 
The  longing  is  the  same;  the  object  changes.  Nature  is 
beautiful  only  by  virtue  of  the  longing  and  love  given 
her  by  man.  The  aesthetic  attributes  emanating  from 
that  has  influence  primarily  on  the  libido,  which  alone 
constitutes  the  beauty  of  nature.  The  dream  recognizes 
this  well  when  it  depicts  a  strong  and  beautiful  feeling  by 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  95 

means  of  a  representation  of  a  beautiful  landscape. 
Whenever  one  moves  in  the  territory  of  the  erotic  it 
becomes  altogether  clear  how  little  the  object  and  how 
much  the  love  means.  The  "  sexual  object "  is  as  a  rule 
overrated  far  too  much  and  that  only  on  account  of  the 
extreme  degree  to  which  libido  is  devoted  to  the  object. 

Apparently  Miss  Miller  had  but  little  left  over  for 
the  officer,  which  is  humanly  very  intelligible.  But  in 
spite  of  that  a  deep  and  lasting  effect  emanates  from 
this  connection  which  places  divinity  on  a  par  with  the 
erotic  object.  The  moods  which  apparently  are  produced 
by  these  objects  do  not,  however,  spring  from  them,  but 
are  manifestations  of  her  strong  love.  When  Miss 
Miller  praises  either  God  or  the  sun  she  means  her  love, 
that  deepest  and  strongest  impulse  of  the  human  and 
animal  being. 

The  reader  will  recall  that  in  the  preceding  chapter  the 
following  chain  of  synonyms  was  adduced:  the  singer — 
God  of  sound — singing  morning  star — creator — God  of 
Light — sun — fire — God  of  Love. 

At  that  time  we  had  placed  sun  and  fire  in  parentheses. 
Now  they  are  entitled  to  their  right  place  in  the  chain  of 
synonyms.  With  the  changing  of  the  erotic  impression 
from  the  affirmative  to  the  negative  the  symbols  of  light 
occur  as  the  paramount  object.  In  the  second  poem  where 
the  longing  is  clearly  exposed  it  is  by  no  means  the  ter- 
restrial sun.  Since  the  longing  has  been  turned  away  from 
the  real  object,  its  object  has  become,  first  of  all,  a  sub- 
jective one,  namely,  God.  Psychologically,  however,  God 
is  the  name  of  a  representation-complex  which  is  grouped 


96         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

around  a  strong  feeling  (the  sum  of  libido).  Properly, 
the  feeling  is  what  gives  character  and  reality  to  the  com- 
plex/°  The  attributes  and  symbols  of  the  divinity  must 
belong  in  a  consistent  manner  to  the  feeling  (longing,  love, 
libido,  and  so  on).  If  one  honors  God,  the  sun  or  the 
fire,  then  one  honors  one's  own  vital  force,  the  libido. 
It  is  as  Seneca  says :  "  God  is  near  you,  he  is  with  you,  in 
you."  God  is  our  own  longing  to  which  we  pay  divine 
honors."  If  it  were  not  known  how  tremendously  sig- 
nificant religion  was,  and  is,  this  marvellous  play  with 
one's  self  would  appear  absurd.  There  must  be  something 
more  than  this,  however,  because,  notwithstanding  its 
absurdity,  it  is,  in  a  certain  sense,  conformable  to  the 
purpose  in  the  highest  degree.  To  bear  a  God  within 
one's  self  signifies  a  great  deal;  it  is  a  guarantee  of  hap- 
piness, of  power,  indeed  even  of  omnipotence,  as  far  as 
these  attributes  belong  to  the  Deity.  To  bear  a  God 
within  one's  self  signifies  just  as  much  as  to  be  God  one's 
self.  In  Christianity,  where,  it  is  true,  the  grossly  sensual 
representations  and  symbols  are  weeded  out  as  carefully 
as  possible,  which  seems  to  be  a  continuation  of  the  pov- 
erty of  symbols  of  the  Jewish  cult,  there  are  to  be  found 
plain  traces  of  this  psychology.  There  are  even  plainer 
traces,  to  be  sure,  in  the  "  becoming-one  with  God  "  in 
those  mysteries  closely  related  to  the  Christian,  where  the 
mystic  himself  Is  lifted  up  to  divine  adoration  through 
initiatory  rites.  At  the  close  of  the  consecration  into  the 
Isis  mysteries  the  mystic  was  crowned  with  the  palm 
crown, ^^  he  was  placed  on  a  pedestal  and  worshipped  as 
Hellos.^'^     In  the  magic  papyrus  of  the  Mithraic  liturgy 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  97 

published  by  DIeterich  there  is  the  lepoi  Xoyos*  of  the 
consecrated  one : 

'Eyco   ei/At    GvpiTtXavo?   v^xiv   aGrrjp   xai   iu   rov    /3a6ov5 

The  mystic  in  religious  ecstasies  put  himself  on  a  plane 
with  the  stars,  just  as  a  saint  of  the  Middle  Ages  put 
himself  by  means  of  the  stigmata  on  a  level  with  Christ. 
St.  Francis  of  Assisi  expressed  this  in  a  truly  pagan  man- 
ner,^* even  as  far  as  a  close  relationship  with  the  brother 
sun  and  the  sister  moon.  These  representations  of  "  be- 
coming-one with  God  "  are  very  ancient.  The  old  belief 
removed  the  becoming-one  with  God  until  the  time  after 
death;  the  mysteries,  however,  suggest  this  as  taking 
place  already  in  this  world.  A  very  old  text  brings  most 
beautifully  before  one  this  unity  with  God;  it  is  the  song 
of  triumph  of  the  ascending  soul.^^ 

"  I  am  the  God  Atum,  I  who  alone  was. 
I  am  the  God  Re  at  his  first  splendor. 
I  am  the  great  God,  self-created,  God  of  Gods, 
To  whom  no  other  God  compares." 

"  I  was  yesterday  and  know  tomorrow ;  the  battle-ground  of 
Gods  was  made  when  I  spoke.  I  know  the  name  of  that 
great  God  who  tarries  therein. 

"  I  am  that  great  Phoenix  who  is  in  Heliopolis,  who  there 
keeps  account  of  all  there  is,  of  all  that  exists. 

"  I  am  the  God  Min,  at  his  coming  forth,  who  placed  the 
feathers  upon  my  head.^® 

"  I  am  in  my  country,  I  come  into  my  c\Xy.  Daily  I  am  to- 
gether with  my  father  Atum." 

*  Sacred  word. 

t  I  am  a  star  wandering  about  with  you,  and  flaming  up  from  the  depths. 


98         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

"  My  impurity  is  driven  away,  and  the  sin  which  was  in  me 
is  overcome.  I  washed  myself  in  those  two  great  pools  of  water 
which  are  in  Heracleopolis,  in  which  is  purified  the  sacrifice  of 
mankind  for  that  great  God  who  abideth  there. 

"  I  go  on  my  way  to  where  I  wash  my  head  in  the  sea  of  the 
righteous.  I  arrive  at  this  land  of  the  glorified,  and  enter 
through  the  splendid  portal. 

"  Thou,  who  standest  before  me,  stretch  out  to  me  thy  hands, 
it  is  I,  I  am  become  one  of  thee.  Daily  am  I  together  with  my 
Father  Atum." 

The  identification  with  God  necessarily  has  as  a  result 
the  enhancing  of  the  meaning  and  power  of  the  indi- 
vidual.^^ That  seems,  first  of  all,  to  have  been  really  its 
purpose :  a  strengthening  of  the  individual  against  his 
all  too  great  weakness  and  insecurity  in  real  life.  This 
great  megalomania  thus  has  a  genuinely  pitiable  back- 
ground. The  strengthening  of  the  consciousness  of 
power  Is,  however,  only  an  external  result  of  the  "  becom- 
ing-one with  God."  Of  much  more  significance  are  the 
deeper-lying  disturbances  in  the  realm  of  feeling.  Who- 
ever introverts  libido — that  is  to  say,  whoever  takes  it 
away  from  a  real  object  without  putting  in  its  place  a  real 
compensation — is  overtaken  by  the  inevitable  results  of 
introversion.  The  libido,  which  is  turned  inward  into  the 
subject,  awakens  again  from  among  the  sleeping  remem- 
brances one  which  contains  the  path  upon  which  earlier 
the  libido  once  had  come  to  the  real  object.  At  the 
very  first  and  in  foremost  position  it  was  father  and 
mother  who  were  the  objects  of  the  childish  love.  They 
are  unequalled  and  imperishable.  Not  many  difficulties 
are  needed  in  an  adult's  Hfe  to  cause  those  memories  to 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  99 

reawaken  and  to  become  effectual.  In  religion  the  re- 
gressive reanimation  of  the  f ather-and-mother  imago  is 
organized  into  a  system.  The  benefits  of  religion  are  the 
benefits  of  parental  hands;  its  protection  and  its  peace 
are  the  results  of  parental  care  upon  the  child;  its  mystic 
feelings  are  the  unconscious  memories  of  the  tender 
emotions  of  the  first  childhood,  just  as  the  hymn  ex- 
presses it: 

"  I  am  in  my  country,  I  come  into  my  city.  Daily  am  I  to- 
gether with  my  father  Atum."  ^® 

The  visible  father  of  the  world  is,  however,  the  sun, 
the  heavenly  fire;  therefore,  Father,  God,  Sun,  Fire  are 
mythologically  synonymous.  The  well-known  fact  that 
in  the  sun's  strength  the  great  generative  power  of  nature 
is  honored  shows  plainly,  very  plainly,  to  any  one  to  whom 
as  yet  it  may  not  be  clear  that  in  the  Deity  man  honors 
his  own  libido,  and  naturally  in  the  form  of  the  image  or 
symbol  of  the  present  object  of  transference.  This 
symbol  faces  us  in  an  especially  marked  manner  in  the 
third  Logos  of  the  Dieterich  papyrus.  After  the  second 
prayer  ^°  stars  come  from  the  disc  of  the  sun  to  the  mystic, 
"  five-pointed,  in  quantities,  filling  the  whole  air.  If  the 
sun's  disc  has  expanded,  you  will  see  an  immeasurable 
circle,  and  fiery  gates  which  are  shut  off."  The  mystic 
utters  the  following  prayer: 

'ETTaHOvdor  fxov,  auovffov  }xnv — 6  ffvvSr/ffa?  nvevfiari 
ra  nvpiva  uXeWpa  rou  ovpavov,  diGoofxaroi  nvpinoXSy 
cpGoroi  HTiffTa — TtvpiTtvos,  TtvpiOupie,  7z:y€vjxaroq)Cj?,  nvpi- 
XctpVy  y<-OiXXiq)ooi,  (poor oupar cop,   vtvpiGGopiars,   qjoorodoTaf 

TCVpiffTtOpS,    TtVpiuXovS,     (pGOTO/SlS,   TtVpiSlVU,   (pGOTOHlV^Taf 


100      PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

HspavvoK\6v£,      (poDToS     kXso^,      uv^Tjff  1^)00?,      evTtvpiff- 
XTjGicpGoi,  a(JTf)o6a}J.a.* 

The  invocation  is,  as  one  sees,  almost  inexhaustible  in 
light  and  fire  attributes,  and  can  be  likened  in  its  extrava- 
gance only  to  the  synonymous  attributes  of  love  of  the 
mystic  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Among  the  innumerable 
texts  which  might  be  used  as  an  illustration  of  this,  I 
select  a  passage  from  the  writings  of  Mechtild  von 
Magdeburg  (1212-1277): 

"O  Lord,  love  me  excessively  and  love  me  often  and  long; 
the  oftener  you  love  me,  so  much  the  purer  do  I  become;  the 
more  excessively  you  love  me,  the  more  beautiful  I  become; 
the  longer  you  love  me,  the  more  holy  will  I  become  here  upon 
earth." 

God  answered :  "  That  I  love  you  often,  that  I  have  from  my 
nature,  for  I  myself  am  love.  That  I  love  you  excessively,  that 
I  have  from  my  desire,  for  I  too  desire  that  men  love  me  exces- 
sively. That  I  love  you  long,  that  I  have  from  my  everlastingness, 
for  I  am  without  end."  " 

The  religious  regression  makes  use  indeed  of  the 
parent  image  without,  however,  consciously  making  it  an 
object  of  transference,  for  the  incest  horror  ^^  forbids 
that.  It  remains  rather  as  a  synonym,  for  example,  of  the 
father  or  of  God,  or  of  the  more  or  less  personified 
symbol  of  the  sun  and  fire.^^    Sun  and  fire — that  is  to  say, 

*  Hear  me,  grant  me  my  prayer — Binding  together  the  fiery  bolts  of 
heaven  with  spirit,  two-bodied  fiery  sky,  creator  of  humanity,  fire-breathing, 
fiery-spirited,  spiritual  being  rejoicing  in  fire,  beauty  of  humanity,  ruler  of 
humanity  of  fierv  body,  light-giver  to  men,  fire-scattering,  fire-agitated,  life 
of  humanity,  fire-whirled,  mover  of  men  who  confounds  with  thunder, 
famed  among  men,  increasing  the  human  race,  enlightening  humanity,  con- 
queror of  stars. 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  loi 

the  fructifying  strength  and  heat — are  attributes  of  the 
libido.  In  Mysticism  the  inwardly  perceived,  divine 
vision  is  often  merely  sun  or  light,  and  is  very  little,  or 
not  at  all,  personified.  In  the  MIthraic  liturgy  there  is 
found,  for  example,  a  significant  quotation: 

'H  di  nopsia  rcdv  opGo/xivcjy  Qec^v  6ia   rov  diffxov,  ita- 
rpoi  jjioVy  Oeov  (pavjjfferai.* 

Hildegarde  von  Bingen  (1100-1178)  expresses  herself 
in  the  following  manner : 


24 


"  But  the  light  I  see  is  not  local,  but  far  off,  and  brighter  than 
the  cloud  which  supports  the  sun.  I  can  in  no  way  know  the 
form  of  this  light  since  I  cannot  entirely  see  the  sun's  disc.  But 
within  this  light  I  see  at  times,  and  infrequently,  another  light 
which  is  called  by  me  the  living  light,  but  when  and  in  what 
manner  I  see  this  I  do  not  know  how  to  say,  and  when  I  see  it 
all  weariness  and  need  is  lifted  from  me,  then  too,  I  feel  like  a 
simple  girl  and  not  like  an  old  woman." 

Symeon,  the  New  Theologian  (970-1040),  says  the 
following : 

"  My  tongue  lacks  words,  and  what  happens  in  me  my  spirit 
sees  clearly  but  does  not  explain.  It  sees  the  invisible,  that 
emptiness  of  all  forms,  simple  throughout,  not  complex,  and  in 
extent  infinite.  For  it  sees  no  beginning,  and  it  sees  no  end.  It 
is  entirely  unconscious  of  the  meanings,  and  does  not  know  what 
to  call  that  which  it  sees.  Something  complete  appears,  it  seems 
to  me,  not  indeed  through  the  being  itself,  but  through  a  participa- 
tion. For  you  enkindle  fire  from  fire,  and  you  receive  the  whole 
fire;  but  this  remains  undiminished  and  undivided,  as  before. 
Similarly,  that  which  is  divided  separates  itself  from  the  first;  and 
like  something  corporeal  spreads  itself  into  several  lights.     This, 

*The  path  of  the  visible  Gods  will  appear  through  the  sun,  the  God 
my  father. 


I02       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

however,  is  something  spiritual,  immeasurable,  indivisible,  and  in- 
exhaustible. For  it  is  not  separated  when  it  becomes  many,  but 
remains  undivided  and  is  in  me,  and  enters  within  my  poor  heart 
like  a  sun  or  circular  disc  of  the  sun,  similar  to  the  light, 
for  it  is  a  light."  " 

That  that  thing,  perceived  as  inner  light,  as  the  sun  of 
the  other  world.  Is  longing,  Is  clearly  shown  by  Symeon's 
words :  ^^ 

"  And  following  It  my  spirit  demanded  to  embrace  the  splendor 
beheld,  but  it  found  It  not  as  creature  and  did  not  succeed  in 
coming  out  from  among  created  beings,  so  that  it  might  embrace 
that  uncreated  and  uncomprehended  splendor.  Nevertheless  it 
wandered  everywhere,  and  strove  to  behold  It.  It  penetrated  the 
air,  it  wandered  over  the  Heavens,  it  crossed  over  the  abysses,  it 
searched,  as  it  seemed  to  it,  the  ends  of  the  world."  But  in  all 
of  that  it  found  nothing,  for  all  was  created.  And  I  lamented 
and  was  sorrowful,  and  my  breast  burned,  and  I  lived  as  one 
distraught  in  mind.  But  It  came,  as  It  would,  and  descending 
like  a  luminous  mystic  cloud,  It  seemed  to  envelop  my  whole  head  so 
that  dismayed  I  cried  out.  But  flying  away  again  It  left  me  alone. 
And  when  I,  troubled,  sought  for  It,  I  realized  suddenly  that  It 
was  in  me,  myself,  and  in  the  midst  of  my  heart  It  appeared  as 
the  light  of  a  spherical  sun." 

In  Nietzsche's  "  Glory  and  Eternity  "  we  meet  with  an 
essentially  similar  symbol : 

"  Hush!  I  see  vastness! — and  of  vasty  things 
Shall  man  be  done,  unless  he  can  enshrine 
Them  with  his  words?    Then  take  the  night  which  brings 
The  heart  upon  thy  tongue,  charmed  wisdom  mine! 

"  I  look  above,  there  rolls  the  star-strewn  sea. 
O  night,  mute  silence,  voiceless  cry  of  stars! 
And  lo!    A  sign!     The  heaven  its  verge  unbars — 
A  shining  constellation  falls  towards  me."  * 
*  Translated  by  Dr.  T.  G.  Wrench. 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  103 

It  is  not  astonishing  if  Nietzsche's  great  Inner  loneli- 
ness calls  again  Into  existence  certain  forms  of  thought 
which  the  mystic  ecstasy  of  the  old  cults  has  elevated  to 
ritual  representation.  In  the  visions  of  the  MIthralc 
liturgy  we  have  to  deal  with  many  similar  representations 
which  we  can  now  understand  without  difficulty  as  the 
ecstatic  symbol  of  the  libido: 

Mara  6e  to  sittsTv  ffs  rov  dsvrspov  Xoyov,  ottov  Giyrf 
Si?  Hal  td  anoXovOa,  Gvpiffov  dU  uai  TtovtTtvffov  Si's  xal 
evOecD?  oipei  and  rov  Siffuov  dffripa'?  Trpoffepxo/Aevov?  7i8v- 
raSaxrvXiaiovi  nXeiarov?  nai  ninX^vrai  oXov  rov  aepa. 
2v  Se  TtdXiv  Xeys:  Giyr},  (Jiyrj.  Kal  rov  Siffxov  avoiyivTOS 
otpei  ocTteipov  nvKXoofxa  uai  6vpa5  nvpivai  anoKeHXeiG- 
fxiva?.  * 

Silence  Is  commanded,  then  the  vision  of  light  is  re- 
vealed. The  similarity  of  the  mystic's  condition  and 
Nietzsche's  poetical  vision  is  surprising.  Nietzsche  says 
"  constellation."  It  Is  well  known  that  constellations  are 
chiefly  therio-  or  anthropo-morphic  symbols. 

The  papyrus  says,  aarkpai  nBvraSaKrvXiaiov<i\  (sim- 
ilar to  the  "rosy-fingered"  Eos),  which  Is  nothing  else 
than  an  anthropomorphic  Image.  Accordingly,  one  may 
expect  from  that,  that  by  long  gazing  a  living  being 
would  be  formed  out  of  the  "  flame  Image,"  a  "  star 
constellation  "  of  therio-  or  anthropo-morphic  nature,  for 
the  symbolism  of  the  libido  does  not  end  with  sun,  light 

*  After  you  have  said  the  second  prayer,  when  silence  is  twice  com- 
manded ;  then  whistle  twice  and  snap  twice,^*  and  straightway  you  will 
see  many  five-pointed  stars  coming  down  from  the  sun  and  filling  the  whole 
lower  air.  But  say  once  again — Silence!  Silence!  and  you,  Neophyte,  will 
see  the  Circle  and  fiery  doors  cut  ofif  from  the  opening  disc  of  the  sun. 

t  Five-fingered  stars. 


I04       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

and  iire,  but  makes  use  of  wholly  other  means  of  expres- 
sion.    I  yield  precedence  to  Nietzsche : 

The  Beacon  * 

"  Here,  where  the  island  grew  amid  the  seas, 
A  sacrificial  rock  high-towering, 
Here  under  darkling  heavens, 
Zarathustra  lights  his  mountain-fires. 

"  These  flames  with  grey-white  belly, 
In  cold  distances  sparkle  their  desire. 
Stretches  its  neck  towards  ever  purer  heights — 
A  snake  upreared  in  impatience: 

"  This  signal  I  set  up  there  before  me. 
This  flame  is  mine  own  soul, 
Insatiable  for  new  distances. 
Speeding  upward,  upward  its  silent  heat. 

"  At  all  lonely  ones  I  now  throw  my  fishing  rod. 
Give  answer  to  the  flame's  impatience. 
Let  me,  the  fisher  on  high  mountains, 
Catch  my  seventh,  last  solitude!  " 

Here  libido  becomes  fire,  flame  and  snake.  The 
Egyptian  symbol  of  the  "living  disc  of  the  sun,"  the  disc 
with  the  two  entwining  snakes,  contains  the  combination 
of  both  the  libido  analogies.  The  disc  of  the  sun  with 
its  fructifying  warmth  is  analogous  to  the  fructifying 
warmth  of  love.  The  comparison  of  the  libido  with  sun 
and  fire  is  in  reality  analogous. 

There  is  also  a  "  causative  "  element  in  it,  for  sun  and 
fire  as  beneficent  powers  are  objects  of  human  love;  for 
example,    the    sun-hero    Mithra    is    called    the    "  well- 

*  "  Ecce  Homo,"  translated  by  A.  M.  Ludovici. 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  105 

belov^ed."  In  Nietzsche's  poem  the  comparison  is  also  a 
causative  one,  but  this  time  in  a  reversed  sense.  The 
comparison  with  the  snake  is  unequivocally  phallic,  cor- 
responding completely  with  the  tendency  in  antiquity, 
which  was  to  see  In  the  symbol  of  the  phallus  the  quintes- 
sence of  life  and  fruitfulness.  The  phallus  is  the  source 
of  life  and  libido,  the  great  creator  and  worker  of 
miracles,  and  as  such  it  received  reverence  everywhere. 
We  have,  therefore,  three  designating  symbols  of  the 
libido:  First,  the  comparison  by  analogy,  as  sun  and 
fire.  Second,  the  comparisons  based  on  causative  rela- 
tions, as  A:  Object  comparison.  The  libido  is  designated 
by  its  object,  for  example,  the  beneficent  sun.  B  :  The  sub- 
ject comparison,  in  which  the  libido  is  designated  by  Its 
place  of  origin  or  by  analogies  of  this,  for  example,  by 
phallus  or  (analogous)  snake. 

To  these  two  fundamental  forms  of  comparison  still  a 
third  is  added,  in  which  the  "  tertlum  comparationis  "  is 
the  activity;  for  example,  the  libido  is  dangerous  when 
fecundating  like  the  bull — through  the  power  of  its  pas- 
sion— like  the  lion,  like  the  raging  boar  when  in  heat,  like 
the  ever-rutting  ass,  and  so  on. 

This  activity  comparison  can  belong  equally  well  to  the 
category  of  the  analogous  or  to  the  category  of  the  causa- 
tive comparisons.  The  possibilities  of  comparison  mean 
just  as  many  possibilities  for  symbolic  expression,  and 
from  this  basis  all  the  infinitely  varied  symbols,  so  far 
as  they  are  libido  images,  may  properly  be  reduced  to  a 
very  simple  root,  that  Is,  just  to  libido  and  its  fixed 
primitive  qualities.    This  psychologic  reduction  and  sim- 


io6       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

plification  Is  in  accordance  with  the  historic  efforts  of  civil- 
ization to  unify  and  simplify,  to  syncretize,  the  endless 
number  of  the  gods.    We  come  across  this  desire  as  far 
back  as  the  old  Egyptians,  where  the  unlimited  polytheism 
as  exemplified  in  the  numerous  demons  of  places  finally 
necessitated  simplification.     All  the  various  local  gods, 
Amon  of  Thebes,  Horus  of  Edfu,  Horus  of  the  East, 
Chnum  of  Elephantine,  Atum  of  Heliopolis,  and  others,"'* 
)ecame  identified  with  the  sun  God  Re.    In  the  hymns  to 
tfte  sun  the  composite  being  Amon-Re-Harmachis-Atum 
was  invoked  as  "  the  only  god  which  truly  lives,"  ^" 
_^  Amenhotep   IV    (XVIII   dynasty)    went  the    furthest 
\   in  this  direction.     He  replaced  all  former  gods  by  the 
VlMivIng  great  disc  of  the  sun,"  the  official  title  reading: 

"  The  sun  ruling  both  horizons,  triumphant  in  the  horizon  in 
his  name;  the  ghttering  splendor  which  is  in  the  sun's  disc." 

*'  And,  indeed,"  Erman  adds,^^  "  the  sun,  as  a  God, 
should  not  be  honored,  but  the  sun  itself  as  a  planet  which 
imparts  through  its  rays  ^^  the  infinite  life  which  is  in  it 
to  all  living  creatures." 

Amenhotep  IV  by  his  reform  completed  a  work  which 
is  psychologically  important.  He  united  all  the  bull,^^ 
ram,^^  crocodile  ^^  and  pile-dwelling'^®  gods  into  the  disc 
of  the  sun,  and  made  it  clear  that  their  various  attributes 
were  compatible  with  the  sun's  attributes,"  A  similar 
fate  overtook  the  Hellenic  and  Roman  polytheism 
through  the  syncretistic  efforts  of  later  centuries.  The 
beautiful  prayer  of  Lucius  ^^  to  the  queen  of  the  Heavens 
furnishes  an  important  proof  of  this: 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  107 

"  Queen  of  Heaven,  whether  thou  art  the  genial  Ceres,  the 
prime  parent  of  fruits; — or  whether  thou  art  celestial  Venus; — or 
whether  thou  art  the  sister  of  Phoebus ; — or  whether  thou  art  Pros- 
erpina, terrific  with  midnight  howlings — with  that  feminine 
brightness  of  thine  illuminating  the  walls  of  every  city."  '^ 

This  attempt  to  gather  again  into  a  few  units  the  re- 
ligious thoughts  which  were  divided  Into  countless  varia- 
tions and  personified  in  individual  gods  according  to 
their  polytheistic  distribution  and  separation  makes  clear 
the  fact  that  already  at  an  earlier  time  analogies  had 
formally  arisen.  Herodotus  is  rich  in  just  such  refer- 
ences, not  to  mention  the  systems  of  the  Hellenic-Roman 
world.  Opposed  to  the  endeavor  to  form  a  unity  there 
stands  a  still  stronger  endeavor  to  create  again  and  again 
a  multiplicity,  so  that  even  in  the  so-called  severe  mono- 
theistic religions,  as  Christianity,  for  example,  the  polythe- 
istic tendency  is  irrepressible.  The  Deity  Is  divided  into 
three  parts  at  least,  to  which  Is  added  the  feminine  Deity 
of  Mary  and  the  numerous  company  of  the  lesser  gods, 
the  angels  and  saints,  respectively.  These  two  tendencies 
are  in  constant  warfare.  There  Is  only  one  God  with 
countless  attributes,  or  else  there  are  many  gods  who  are 
then  simply  known  differently,  according  to  locality,  and 
personify  sometimes  this,  sometimes  that  attribute  of  the 
fundamental  thought,  an  example  of  which  we  have  seen 
above  In  the  Egyptian  gods. 

With  this  we  turn  once  more  to  Nietzsche's  poem, 
"  The  Beacon."  We  found  the  flame  there  used  as  an 
Image  of  the  libido,  therlomorphlcally  represented  as  a 
snake   (also  as  an  image  of  the  soul:*°  "This  flame  Is 


io8       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

mine  own  soul  ").  We  saw  that  the  snake  Is  to  be  taken 
as  a  phallic  image  of  the  libido  (upreared  in  impatience), 
and  that  this  image,  also  an  attribute  of  the  conception  of 
the  sun  (the  Egyptian  sun  idol),  is  an  image  of  the 
libido  in  the  combination  of  sun  and  phallus.  It  is  not 
a  wholly  strange  conception,  therefore,  that  the  sun's 
disc  is  represented  with  a  penis,  as  well  as  with  hands  and 
feet.  We  find  proof  for  this  idea  in  a  peculiar  part  of 
the  Mithraic  liturgy :  ojiioicj?  6t-  xai  6  HaXovfisvo?  avXo?, 
T/  apxv  ^^^  XeiTovpyovvTO?  avijxov.  "Oipsi  yap  ano  rov 
Siffnov  cjs  avXov  xpsfxafxevov.* 

This  extremely  important  vision  of  a  tube  hanging 
down  from  the  sun  would  produce  in  a  religious  text,  such 
as  that  of  the  Mithraic  liturgy,  a  strange  and  at  the  same 
time  meaningless  effect  if  it  did  not  have  the  phallic  mean- 
ing. The  tube  is  the  place  of  origin  of  the  wind.  The 
phallic  meaning  seems  very  faint  in  this  idea,  but  one 
must  remember  that  the  wind,  as  well  as  the  sun,  is  a 
fructifier  and  creator.  This  has  already  been  pointed  out 
in  a  footnote.*^  There  is  a  picture  by  a  Germanic  painter 
of  the  Middle  Ages  of  the  "  conceptio  immaculata " 
which  deserves  mention  here.  The  conception  is  repre- 
sented by  a  tube  or  pipe  coming  down  from  heaven  and 
passing  beneath  the  skirt  of  Mary.  Into  this  flies  the 
Holy  Ghost  in  the  form  of  a  dove  for  the  impregnation 
of  the  Mother  of  God.*' 

Honegger  discovered  the  following  hallucination  in  an 
insane  man  (paranoid  dement)  :    The  patient  sees  In  the 

*  In  like  manner  the  so-called  tube,  the  origin  of  the  ministering  wind, 
will  become  visible.  For  it  will  appear  to  you  as  a  tube  hanging  down 
from  the  sun. 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  109 

sun  an  "  upright  tail  "  similar  to  an  erected  penis.  When 
he  moves  his  head  back  and  forth,  then,  too,  the  sun's 
penis  sways  back  and  forth  in  a  like  manner,  and  out  of 
that  the  wind  arises.  This  strange  hallucination  remained 
unintelligible  to  us  for  a  long  time  until  I  became  ac- 
quainted with  the  Mithraic  liturgy  and  its  visions.  This 
hallucination  threw  an  illuminating  light,  as  it  appears  to 
me,  upon  a  very  obscure  place  in  the  text  which  immedi- 
ately follows  the  passage  previously  cited : 

€i?  de  rd  jxspr}  ra  rcpo?  \ifta  ankpavrov  oiov  aTti^Xioorrfv. 
Eav  Tj  hskXtjpgo/xsvoS  si?  de  rd  ^lipt]  rov  anrfki(£)r ov  o 
k'repo?,  o/AoiGo?  €i?  rd  f^spt]  rd  ineivov  oipei  rrjv  a7Cog)opdv 
rov  opdjxaro?. 

Mead  translates  this  very  clearly :  *^ 

"  And  towards  the  regions  westward,  as  though  it  were  an 
infinite  Eastwind.  But  if  the  other  wind,  towards  the  regions 
of  the  East,  should  be  in  service,  in  the  like  fashion  shalt  thou 
see  towards  the  regions  of  that  side  the  converse  of  the  sight." 

In  the  original  opa/xa  is  the  vision,  the  thing  seen. 
aTtogjopd  means  properly  the  carrying  away.  The 
sense  of  the  text,  according  to  this,  might  be:  the  thing 
seen  may  be  carried  or  turned  sometimes  here,  sometimes 
there,  according  to  the  direction  of  the  wind.  The 
opafxa  is  the  tube,  "  the  place  of  origin  of  the  wind," 
which  turns  sometimes  to  the  east,  sometimes  to  the  west, 
and,  one  might  add,  generates  the  corresponding  wind. 
The  vision  of  the  insane  man  coincides  astonishingly  with 
this  description  of  the  movement  of  the  tube.** 


no       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

The  various  attributes  of  the  sun,  separated  into  a 
series,  appear  one  after  the  other  in  the  Mithralc 
liturgy.  According  to  the  vision  of  Helios,  seven 
maidens  appear  with  the  heads  of  snakes,  and  seven  gods 
with  the  heads  of  black  bulls. 

It  is  easy  to  understand  the  maiden  as  a  symbol  of  the 
libido  used  In  the  sense  of  causative  comparison.  The 
snake  In  Paradise  Is  usually  considered  as  feminine,  as  the 
seductive  principle  In  woman,  and  Is  represented  as  femi- 
nine by  the  old  artists,  although  properly  the  snake  has  a 
phallic  meaning.  Through  a  similar  change  of  meaning 
the  snake  in  antiquity  becomes  the  symbol  of  the  earth, 
which  on  Its  side  Is  always  considered  feminine.  The  bull 
is  the  well-known  symbol  for  the  fruitfulness  of  the 
sun.  The  bull  gods  In  the  Mithralc  liturgy  were  called 
uvoodaKOcpv'kaHSi,  "  guardians  of  the  axis  of  the  earth," 
by  whom  the  axle  of  the  orb  of  the  heavens  was  turned. 
The  divine  man,  Mithra,  also  had  the  same  attributes; 
he  Is  sometimes  called  the  "Sol  invlctus  "  Itself,  some- 
times the  mighty  companion  and  ruler  of  Helios;  he  holds 
in  his  right  hand  the  "  bear  constellation,  which  moves 
and  turns  the  heavens."  The  bull-headed  gods,  equally 
tepoi  Hal  aXKipioi  veaviai  with  Mithra  himself,  to 
whom  the  attribute  vecarepo?,  "  young  one,"  "  the  new- 
comer," Is  given,  are  merely  attributive  components  of 
the  same  divinity.  The  chief  god  of  the  Mithralc  liturgy 
is  himself  subdivided  into  Mithra  and  Helios;  the  attri- 
butes of  each  of  these  are  closely  related  to  the  other. 
Of  Helios  it  is  said:  orpsi  6e6v  veoorepov  evsidrj    TtvpivO' 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  in 

rpixct  iv  jrrfi3rr  Xsvnai  Ha)  x^^M^^^  HOUHivrj,  sxovta 
nvpivov  GTegiavov* 

Of  Mithra  it  is  said:  otpei  deov  vnEpfxEyeOrf,  cpcorivrjv 
sxovta  TTjv  oipiv,  veooTspov,  xP^^^^^^ofzav,  iv  xiT(^vi  Xevucp 
xai  xpvffcp  ffTsrpdvcp  Hat  dva^vpiffi,  uarexovTa  rfj  ds^ia 
X^ip't  ixoaxov  a>ju6v  xpvffsov,  o?  effriv  dpiiro?  r/  uivov&a 
nai  avTi(JtpEq)0V(3a  Tov  ovpavov,  Kara  oopav  avaTtoXEV- 
ouffa  xai  HatanoXevovSa.  i'mira  otpsi  avTov  sh  rcav 
oixfxocToov  ocffTpandi  xai  ix  tov  (Joopiaroi  aarepai  dXXopii- 
vovi.  f 

If  we  place  fire  and  gold  as  essentially  similar,  then  a 
great  accord  is  found  in  the  attributes  of  the  two  gods. 
To  these  mystical  pagan  ideas  there  deserve  to  be  added 
the  probably  almost  contemporaneous  vision  of  Revela- 
tion: 

"  And  being  turned,  I  saw  seven  golden  candlesticks.  And 
in  the  midst  of  the  candlesticks  *^  one  like  unto  the  son  of  man, 
clothed  with  a  garment  down  to  the  foot,  and  girt  about  at  the 
breasts  with  a  golden  girdle.  And  his  head  and  his  hair  were 
white  as  white  wool,  white  as  snow,  and  his  eyes  were  as  a  flame 
of  fire.  And  his  feet  like  unto  burnished  brass,  as  if  it  had  been 
refined  in  a  furnace;  and  his  voice  as  the  sound  of  many  waters. 
And  he  had  in  his  right  hand  seven  stars,**'  and  out  of  his  mouth 
proceeded  a  sharp  two-edged  sword, ^'  and  his  countenance  was 
as  the  sun  shineth  in  his  strength." — Rev.  i:  12  ff. 

"  And  I  looked,  and  beheld  a  white  cloud,  and  upon  the  cloud 

*  "  You  will  see  the  god  youthful,  graceful,  with  glowing  locks,  in  a 
white  garment  and  a  scarlet  cloak,  with  a  fiery  helmet." 

t"  You  will  see  a  god  very  powerful,  with  a  shining  countenance, 
young,  with  golden  hair,  clothed  in  white  vestments,  with  a  golden 
crown,  holding  in  his  right  hand  a  bullock's  golden  shoulder,  that  is,  the 
bear  constellation,  which  wandering  hourly  up  and  down,  moves  and 
turns  the  heavens:  then  out  of  his  eyes  you  will  see  lightning  spring  forth 
and  from  his  body,  stars." 


112       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

I  saw  one  sitting  like  unto  the  son  of  man,  having  on  his  head  a 
golden  crown,  and  in  his  hand  a  sharp  sickle."  *' — Rev.  xiv:  14. 

"  And  his  eyes  were  as  a  flame  of  fire,  and  upon  his  head  were 
many  diadems.  And  he  was  arrayed  in  a  garment  *°  sprinkled 
with  blood.  .  .  .  And  the  armies  which  were  in  heaven  followed 
him  upon  white  horses,  clothed  in  fine  linen, °''  white  and  pure. 
And  out  of  his  mouth  proceeded  a  sharp  sword." — Rev.  xix: 
12-15. 

One  need  not  assume  that  there  is  a  direct  dependency 
between  the  Apocalypse  and  the  Mithraic  liturgy.  The 
visionary  images  of  both  texts  are  developed  from  a 
source,  not  limited  to  one  place,  but  found  in  the  soul 
of  many  divers  people,  because  the  symbols  which  arise 
from  it  are  too  typical  for  it  to  belong  to  one  individual 
only.  I  put  these  images  here  to  show  how  the  primitive 
symbolism  of  light  gradually  developed,  with  the  increas- 
ing depth  of  the  vision,  into  the  idea  of  the  sun-hero,  the 
"  well-beloved."  ^^  The  development  of  the  symbol  of 
light  is  thoroughly  typical.  In  addition  to  this,  perhaps 
I  might  call  to  mind  the  fact  that  I  have  previously 
pointed  out  this  course  with  numerous  examples,^-  and, 
therefore,  I  can  spare  myself  the  trouble  of  returning  to 
this  subject.^^  These  visionary  occurrences  are  the  psy- 
chological roots  of  the  sun-coronations  in  the  mysteries. 
Its  rite  is  religious  hallucination  congealed  into  liturgical 
form,  which,  on  account  of  its  great  regularity,  could  be- 
come a  generally  accepted  outer  form.  After  all  this,  it 
is  easily  understood  how  the  ancient  Christian  Church,  on 
one  side,  stood  in  an  especial  bond  to  Christ  as  "  sol 
novus,"  and,  on  the  other  side,  had  a  certain  difficulty  in 
freeing  itself  from  the  earthly  symbols  of  Christ.    Indeed 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  113 

Philo  of  Alexandria  saw  in  the  sun  the  image  of  the  divine 
logos  or  of  the  Deity  especially  ("  De  Somniis,"  i :  85). 
In  an  Ambrosian  hymn  Christ  is  invoked  by  "  O  sol 
salutis,"  and  so  on.  At  the  time  of  Marcus  Aurelius, 
Meliton,  in  his  work,^*  Ttepl  Xovrpov,  called  Christ  the 
"HXio?  avaroAij?  .  .  .  /xovo?  rjXioi  ovto?  averEiksv  an' 
ovpavov* 

Still  more  important  is  a  passage  from  Pseudo-Cyp- 
rian: '"^ 

"  O  quam  praeclara  providentia  ut  illo  die  quo  factus  est  sol, 
in  ipso  die  nasceretur  Christus,  v.  Kal.  Apr.  feria  IV,  et  ideo 
de  ipso  ad  plebem  dicebat  Malachias  propheta:  '  Orietur  vobis 
sol  iustitis  et  curatio  est  in  pennis  ejus,'  hie  est  sol  iustitiee  cuis 
in  pennis  curatio  praeostendebatur."  f  " 

In  a  work  nominally  attributed  to  John  Chrysostomus, 
"  De  Solstitiis  et  Aequinoctiis,"  "  occurs  this  passage: 

"  Sed  et  dominus  nascitur  mense  Decembri  hiemis  tempore, 
VIII.  Kal.  Januarias,  quando  oleae  maturas  prasmuntur  ut  unctio, 
id  est  Chrisma,  nascatur — sed  et  Invicti  natalem  appellant.  Quis 
utique  tarn  invictus  nisi  dominus  noster  qui  mortem  subactam 
devicit?  Vel  quod  dicant  Solis  esse  natalem,  ipse  est  sol  iustitiae, 
de  quo  Malachias  propheta  dixit:  '  Dominus  lucis  ac  noctis  con- 
ditor  et  discretor  qui  a  phopheta  Sol  iustitiae  cognominatus  est.'  "  t 

*  Helios,  the  rising  sun — the  only  sun  rising  from  heaven! 

t  "  O,  how  remarkable  a  providence  that  Christ  should  be  born  on  the 
same  day  on  which  the  sun  moves  onward,  V.  Kal.  of  April  the  fourth 
holiday,  and  for  this  reason  the  prophet  Malachi  spoke  to  the  people 
concerning  Christ:  '  Unto  you  shall  the  sun  of  righteousness  arise  with 
healing  in  his  wings,  this  is  the  sun  of  righteousness  in  whose  wings  heal- 
ing shall   be  displayed.' " 

t  Moreover  the  Lord  is  born  in  the  month  of  December  in  the  winter  on 
the  8th  Kal.  of  January  when  the  ripe  olives  are  gathered,  so  that  the  oil, 
that  is  the  chrism,  may  be  produced,  moreover  they  call  it  the  birthday  of 
the  Unconquered  One.  Who  in  any  case  is  as  unconquered  as  our  Lord, 
who  conquered  death  itself?     Or  why  should  they  call  it  the  birthday  of 


114       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

According  to  the  testimony  of  Eusebius  of  Alexandria, 
the  Christians  also  shared  in  the  worship  of  the  rising 
sun,  which  lasted  into  the  fifth  century : 

ovai  Toi?  TrpoffHVvovffi  tov  tjXiov  nal  trfv  GsXrfvrfv  uai 
Tov? d(}Tepa<;.  IIoXXov?  yap  oida  tov?  Ttpoffnvvovvra?  nal 
svxo/uiyov?  eii  tov  tjXiov.  "HStj  yap  avaTsiXavTO?  tov 
rjXiov,  npoSEVxovTai  nal  Xiyovffiv  '"EXerjffov  i^fxa?"  xai  ov 
fj.6vov  'HXioyvGoffTai  uai  aipsTinoi  tovto  noiovffiv  aXXa 
Hal  xPi^T^'X^oi  Kai  aqjsvTSS  Tijv  niffTiv  roii  aipSTtxci? 
(SvvafxiyvvvTai.* 

Augustine  preached  emphatically  to  the  Christians: 

"  Non  est  Dominus  Sol  factus  sed  per  quern  Sol  factus  est — ne 
quis  carnaliter  sapiens  Solem  istum  (Christum)  intelligendum 
putaret." 

Art  has  preserved  much  of  the  remnants  of  sun- 
worship,^®  thus  the  nimbus  around  the  head  of  Christ  and 
the  halo  of  the  saints  in  general.  The  Christian  legends 
also  attribute  many  fire  and  light  symbols  to  the  saints. ^^ 
The  twelve  apostles,  for  example,  are  likened  to  the 
twelve  signs  of  the  zodiac,  and  are  represented,  there- 
fore, with  a  star  over  the  head.®" 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  heathen,  as  Ter- 
tuUian  avows,  considered  the  sun  as  the  Christian  God. 


the  sun;  he  himself  is  the  sun  of  righteousness,  concerning  ■whom  Malachi, 
the  prophet,  spoke:  'The  Lord  is  the  author  of  light  and  of  darkness,  he 
is  the  judge  spoken  of  by  the  prophet  as  the  Sun  of  righteousness.'  " 

*  "  Ah !  woe  to  the  worshippers  of  the  sun  and  the  moon  and  the  stars. 
For  I  know  many  worshippers  and  prayer  sayers  to  the  sun.  For  now 
at  the  rising  of  the  sun,  they  worship  and  say,  '  Have  mercy  on  us,'  and 
not  only  the  sun-gnostics  and  the  heretics  do  this,  but  also  Christians 
who  leave  their  faith  and  mix  with  the  heretics." 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  115  ' 

Among  the  Manichasans  God  was  really  the  sun.  One 
of  the  most  remarkable  works  extant,  where  the  Pagan, 
Asiatic,  Hellenic  and  Christian  intermingle,  is  the 
E^Tfyrfffis  Ttepi  rcdv  ev  Ilspffidi  TtpaxBevroov,  edited  by 
Wirth.®^  This  is  a  book  of  fables,  but,  nevertheless,  a 
mine  for  near-Christian  phantasies,  which  gives  a  pro- 
found insight  into  Christian  symbolism.  In  this  is  found 
the  following  magical  dedication :  ^u  'HXicp  deep  fxsyaXcp 
/SaffiXsi  Ui]aov — *  In  certain  parts  of  Armenia  the 
rising  sun  is  still  worshipped  by  Christians,  that  "  it 
may  let  its  foot  rest  upon  the  faces  of  the  wor- 
shippers." ^"  The  foot  occurs  as  an  anthropomorphic  at- 
tribute, and  we  have  already  met  the  theriomorphic 
attribute  in  the  feathers  and  the  sun  phallus.  Other  com- 
parisons of  the  sun's  ray,  as  knife,  sword,  arrow,  and  so 
on,  have  also,  as  we  have  learned  from  the  psychology 
of  the  dream,  a  phallic  meaning  at  bottom.  This  mean- 
ing is  attached  to  the  foot  as  I  here  point  out,®^  and  also 
to  the  feathers,  or  hair,  of  the  sun,  which  signify  the 
power  or  strength  of  the  sun.  I  refer  to  the  story  of 
Samson,  and  to  that  of  the  Apocalypse  of  Baruch,  con- 
cerning the  phoenix  bird,  which,  flying  before  the  sun,  loses 
its  feathers,  and,  exhausted,  is  strengthened  again  in  an 
ocean  bath  at  evening. 

Under  the  symbol  of  "  moth  and  sun  "  we  have  dug 
down  into  the  historic  depths  of  the  soul,  and  in  doing 
this  we  have  uncovered  an  old  buried  idol,  the  youthful, 
beautiful,  fire-encircled  and  halo-crowned  sun-hero,  who, 
forever  unattainable  to  the  mortal,  wanders  upon  the 

*"To   Zeus,   the   Great   Sun   God,   the   King,   the   Saviour." 


ii6       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

earth,  causing  night  to  follow  day;  winter,  summer;  death, 
life;  and  who  returns  again  in  rejuvenated  splendor  and 
gives  light  to  new  generations.  The  longing  of  the 
dreamer  concealed  behind  the  moth  stands  for  him. 

The  ancient  pre-Asiatic  civilizations  were  acquainted 
with  a  sun-worship  having  the  idea  of  a  God  dying  and 
rising  again  (Osiris,  Tammuz,  Attis-Adonis)  ,"*  Christ, 
Mithra  and  his  bull,®^  Phoenix  and  so  on.  The  beneficent 
power  as  well  as  the  destroying  power  was  worshipped  in 
fire.  The  forces  of  nature  always  have  two  sides,  as  we 
have  already  seen  in  the  God  of  Job.  This  reciprocal 
bond  brings  us  back  once  more  to  Miss  Miller's  poem. 
Her  reminiscences  support  our  previous  supposition,  that 
the  symbol  of  moth  and  sun  Is  a  condensation  of  two 
ideas,  about  one  of  which  we  have  just  spoken;  the  other 
is  the  moth  and  the  flame.  As  the  title  of  a  play,  about 
the  contents  of  which  the  author  tells  us  absolutely  noth- 
ing, "  Moth  and  Flame  "  may  easily  have  the  well-known 
erotic  meaning  of  flying  around  the  flame  of  passion  until 
one's  wings  are  burned.  The  passionate  longing,  that  is 
to  say,  the  libido,  has  its  two  sides;  it  is  power  which 
beautifies  everything,  and  which  under  other  circum- 
stances destroys  everything.  It  often  appears  as  if  one 
could  not  accurately  understand  in  what  the  destroying 
quality  of  the  creative  power  consists,  A  woman  who 
gives  herself  up  to  passion,  particularly  under  the  present- 
day  condition  of  culture,  experiences  the  destructive  side 
only  too  soon.  One  has  only  to  Imagine  one's  self  a  little 
away  from  the  every-day  moral  conditions  In  order  to 
understand  what  feelings  of  extreme  Insecurity  overwhelm 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  117 

the  individual  who  gives  himself  unconditionally  over  to 
Fate. 

To  be  fruitful  means,  indeed,  to  destroy  one's  self,  be- 
cause with  the  rise  of  the  succeeding  generation  the  pre- 
vious one  has  passed  beyond  its  highest  point;  thus  our 
descendants  are  our  most  dangerous  enemies,  whom  we 
cannot  overcome,  for  they  will  outlive  us,  and,  there- 
fore, without  fail,  will  take  the  power  from  our  en- 
feebled hands.  The  anxiety  in  the  face  of  the  erotic  fate 
is  wholly  understandable,  for  there  is  something  immeas- 
urable therein.  Fate  usually  hides  unknown  dangers,  and 
the  perpetual  hesitation  of  the  neurotic  to  venture  upon 
life  is  easily  explained  by  his  desire  to  be  allowed  to  stand 
still,  so  as  not  to  take  part  in  the  dangerous  battle  of  life.^^ 
Whoever  renounces  the  chance  to  experience  must  stifle 
in  himself  the  wish  for  it,  and,  therefore,  commits  a  sort 
of  self-murder.  From  this  the  death  phantasies  which 
readily  accompany  the  renunciation  of  the  erotic  wish 
are  made  clear.  In  the  poem  Miss  Miller  has  voiced 
these  phantasies. 

She  adds  further  to  the  material  with  the  following: 

"  I  had  been  reading  a  selection  from  one  of  Byron's  poems 
which  pleased  me  very  much  and  made  a  deep  and  lasting  im- 
pression. Moreover,  the  rhythm  of  my  last  two  verses,  '  For  I 
the  source,  etc.,'  and  the  two  lines  of  Byron's  are  very  similar. 

'  Now  let  me  die  as  I  have  lived  in  faith, 
Nor  tremble  though  the  universe  should  quake.'  " 

This  reminiscence  with  which  the  series  of  ideas  is 
closed  confirms  the  death  phantasies  which  follow  from 


ii8       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

renunciation  of  the  erotic  wish.  The  quotation  comes — 
which  Miss  Miller  did  not  mention — from  an  uncompleted 
poem  of  Byron's  called  "  Heaven  and  Earth."  ^^  The 
whole  verse  follows: 

"  Still  blessed  be  the  Lord, 
For  what  is  passed, 
For  that  which  is; 
For  all  are  His, 
From  first  to  last — 

Time — Space — Eternity — Life — Death — 
The  vast  known  and  immeasurable  unknown 
He  made  and  can  unmake, 
And  shall  I  for  a  little  gasp  of  breath 
Blaspheme  and  groan? 
No,  let  me  die  as  I  have  lived  in  faith, 
Nor  quiver   though   the  universe  may  quake! " 

The  words  are  included  in  a  kind  of  praise  or  prayer, 
spoken  by  a  "  mortal "  who  is  in  hopeless  flight  before 
the  mounting  deluge.  Miss  Miller  puts  herself  in  the 
same  situation  in  her  quotation;  that  is  to  say,  she  readily 
lets  it  be  seen  that  her  feeling  is  similar  to  the  despond- 
ency of  the  unhappy  ones  who  find  themselves  hard 
pressed  by  the  threatening  mounting  waters  of  the  deluge. 
With  this  the  writer  allows  us  a  deep  look  into  the  dark 
abyss  of  her  longing  for  the  sun-hero.  We  see  that  her 
longing  is  in  vain;  she  is  a  mortal,  only  for  a  short  time 
borne  upwards  into  the  light  by  means  of  the  highest 
longing,  and  then  sinking  to  death,  or,  much  more,  urged 
upwards  by  the  fear  of  death,  like  the  people  before  the 
deluge,  and  in  spite  of  the  desperate  conflict,  irretriev- 
ably given  over  to  destruction.     This  is  a  mood  which  re- 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  119 

calls    vividly    the    closing    scene    in    "  Cyrano    de    Ber- 
gerac":'^ 

Cyrano : 

Oh,  mais  .    .    .  puisqu'elle  est  en  chemin, 
Je  I'attendrai  debout  .   .   .  et  I'epee  a  la  main. 

Que  dites-vous?  .   .    .  C'est  inutile?    Je  le  sais. 

Mais  on  ne  se  bat  pas  dans  I'espoir  du  succes. 

Non,  non.     C'est  bien  plus  beau  lorsque  c'est  inutile. 

Je  sais  bien  qu'a  la  fin  vous  me  mettrez  a  bas.  .  .  . 

We  already  know  sufficiently  well  what  longing  and 
what  impulse  it  is  that  attempts  to  clear  a  way  for  itself 
to  the  light,  but  that  it  may  be  realized  quite  clearly  and 
irrevocably,  it  is  shown  plainly  in  the  quotation  "  No,  let 
me  die,"  which  confirms  and  completes  all  earlier  remarks. 
The  divine,  the  "  much-beloved,"  who  is  honored  in  the 
image  of  the  sun,  is  also  the  goal  of  the  longing  of  our 
poet. 

Byron's  "  Heaven  and  Earth  "  is  a  mystery  founded  on 
the  following  passage  from  Genesis,  chapter  vi :  2 : 
"  And  it  came  to  pass  .  .  .  that  the  sons  of  God  saw  the 
daughters  of  men  that  they  were  fair,  and  they  took 
them  wives  of  all  that  they  chose."  Byron  offers  as  a 
further  motif  for  his  poem  the  following  passage  from 
Coleridge :  "  And  woman  wailing  for  her  Demon  lover." 
Byron's  poem  is  concerned  with  two  great  events,  one 
psychologic  and  one  telluric;  the  passion  which  throws 
down  all  barriers;  and  all  the  terrors  of  the  unchained 
powers  of  nature :  a  parallel  which  has  already  been  in- 
troduced into  our  earlier  discussion.    The  angels  Samiasa 


120       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

and  Azazlel  burn  with  sinful  love  for  the  beautiful 
daughters  of  Cain,  Anah  and  Aholibama,  and  force  a 
way  through  the  barrier  which  is  placed  between  mortal 
and  immortal.  They  revolt  as  Lucifer  once  did  against 
God,  and  the  archangel  Raphael  raises  his  voice  warn- 
ingly : 

"  But  man  hath  listened  to  his  voice 
And  ye  to  woman's — beautiful  she  is, 
The  serpent's  voice  less  subtle  than  her  kiss. 
The  snake  but  vanquished   dust;  but  she  will  draw 
A  second  host  from  heaven  to  break  heaven's  law." 

The  power  of  God  is  threatened  by  the  seduction  of 
passion;  a  second  fall  of  angels  menaces  heaven.  Let  us 
translate  this  mythologic  projection  back  into  the  psycho- 
logic, from  whence  it  originated.  Then  it  would  read: 
the  power  of  the  good  and  reasonable  ruling  the  world 
wisely  is  threatened  by  the  chaotic  primitive  power  of  pas- 
sion; therefore  passion  must  be  exterminated;  that  is  to 
say,  projected  into  mythology.  The  race  of  Cain  and 
the  whole  sinful  world  must  be  destroyed  from  the  roots 
by  the  deluge.  It  is  the  inevitable  result  of  that  sinful 
passion  which  has  broken  through  all  barriers.  Its  coun- 
terpart is  the  sea  and  the  waters  of  the  deep  and  the 
floods  of  rain,^^  the  generating,  fructifying  and  "  mater- 
nal waters,"  as  the  Indian  mythology  refers  to  them. 
Now  they  leave  their  natural  bounds  and  surge  over  the 
mountain  tops,  engulfing  all  living  things;  for  passion  de- 
stroys itself.  The  libido  is  God  and  Devil.  With  the 
destruction  of  the   sinfulness  of  the  libido   an  essential 


1 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  121 

portion  of  the  libido  would  be  destroyed.  Through  the 
loss  of  the  Devil,  God  himself  suffered  a  considerable  loss, 
somewhat  like  an  amputation  upon  the  body  of  the 
Divinity.  The  mysterious  hint  In  Raphael's  lament  con- 
cerning the  two  rebels,  Samiasa  and  Azaziel,  suggests 
this. 

".  .  .  .  Why, 
Cannot  this  earth  be  made,  or  be  destroyed, 
Without  involving  ever  some  vast  void 
In  the  immortal  ranks?  .  .  ." 

Love  raises  man,  not  only  above  himself,  but  also 
above  the  bounds  of  his  mortality  and  earthliness,  up  to 
divinity  Itself,  and  in  the  very  act  of  raising  him  it  de- 
stroys him.  Mythologically,  this  self-presumption  finds 
Its  striking  expression  In  the  building  of  the  heaven-high 
tower  of  Babel,  which  brings  confusion  to  mankind. '^° 
In  Byron's  poem  It  is  the  sinful  ambition  of  the  race  of 
Cain,  for  love  of  which  it  makes  even  the  stars  sub- 
servient and  leads  away  the  sons  of  God  themselves.  If, 
indeed,  longing  for  the  highest  things — if  I  may  speak 
so — is  legitimate,  then  It  lies  In  the  circumstances  that  it 
leaves  its  human  boundaries,  that  of  sinfulness,  and, 
therefore,  destruction.  The  longing  of  the  moth  for  the 
star  is  not  absolutely  pure  and  transparent,  but  glows  in 
sultry  mist,  for  man  continues  to  be  man.  Through  the 
excess  of  his  longing  he  draws  down  the  divine  into  the 
corruption  of  his  passion;"  therefore,  he  seems  to  raise 
himself  to  the  Divine;  but  with  that  his  humanity  is  de- 
stroyed. Thus  the  love  of  Anah  and  Ahollbama  for  their 
angels  becomes  the  ruin  of  gods  and  men.    The  invoca- 


122       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

tion  with  which  Cain's  daughters  implore  their  angels  is 
psychologically  an  exact  parallel  to  Miss  Miller's  poem. 

Anahr' 
Seraph ! 

From  thy  sphere! 
Whatever  star  "  contains  thy  glory. 

In  the  eternal  depths  of  heaven 
Albeit  thou  watchest  with  the  '  seven,' 
Though  through  space  infinite  and  hoary 
Before  thy  bright  wings  worlds  will  be  driven, 

Yet  hear! 
Oh!  think  of  her  who  holds  thee  dear! 

And  though  she  nothing  is  to  thee, 
Yet  think  that  thou  art  all  to  her. 

Eternity  is  in  thy  years. 

Unborn,  undying  beauty  in  thine  eyes; 

With  me  thou  canst  not  sympathize. 

Except  in  love,  and  there  thou  must 

Acknowledge  that  more  loving  dust 

Ne'er  wept  beneath  the  skies. 

Thou  walkest  thy  many  worlds,^*  thou  seest 

The  face  of  him  who  made  thee  great, 

As  he  hath  made  of  me  the  least 

Of  those  cast  out  from  Eden's  gate; 

Yet,   Seraph,  dear! 

Oh  hear! 
For  thou  hast  loved  me,  and  I  would  not  die 
Until  I  know  what  I  must  die  in  knowing, 
That  thou  forgettest  in  thine  eternity 
Her  whose  heart  death  could  not  keep  from  o'erflowing 
For  thee,  immortal  essence  as  thou  art," 
Great  is  their  love  who  love  in  sin  and  fear ; 
And  such,  I  feel,  are  waging  in  my  heart 
A  war  unworthy:  to  an  Adamite 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  123 

Forgive,  my  Seraph!  that  such  thoughts  appear. 
For  sorrow  is  our  element.  .  .  . 


The  hour  is  near 
Which  tells  me  we  are  not  abandoned  quite. 

Appear !    Appear ! 

Seraph ! 
My  own  Azaziel!  be  but  here, 
And  leave  the  stars  to  their  own  light. 

Aholibama: 

I  call  thee,  I  await  thee  and  I  love  thee. 

Though  I  be  formed  of  clay. 

And  thou  of  beams  " 

More  bright  than  those  of  day  on  Eden's  streams, 

Thine  immortality  cannot  repay 

With  love  more  warm  than  mine 

My  love.    There  is  a  ray  '^ 

In  me,  which  though  forbidden  yet  to  shine, 

I  feel  was  lighted  at  thy  God's  and  mine." 

It  may  be  hidden  long:  death  and  decay 

Our  mother  Eve  bequeathed  us — but  my  heart 

Defies  it:  though  this  life  must  pass  away, 

Is  that  a  cause  for  thee  and  me  to  part? 

I  can  share  all  things,  even  immortal  sorrow; 

For  thou  hast  ventured  to  share  life  with  me, 

And  shall  I  shrink  from  thine  eternity? 

No,  though  the  serpent's  sting  '^  should  pierce  me  through, 

And  thou  thyr-elf  wert  like  the  serpent,  coil 

Around  me  still.*"    And  I  will  smile 

And  curse  thee  not,  but  hold 

Thee  in  as  warm  a  fold 

As — but  descend  and  prove 

A  mortal's  love 

Fox    <n   immortal.  .  .  <> 


124       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

The  apparition  of  both  angels  which  follows  the  invo- 
cation is,  as  always,  a  shining  vision  of  light. 

Aholibama: 
The  clouds  from  off  their  pinions  flinging 
As  though  they  bore  to-morrow's  light. 

Anah: 
But  if  our  father  see  the  sight! 

Aholibama: 
He  would  but  deem  it  was  the  moon 
Rising  unto  some  sorcerer's  tune 
An  hour  too  soon. 

Anah: 
Lo!     They  have  kindled  all  the  west, 
Like  a  returning  sunset.  .  .  . 
On  Ararat's  late  secret  crest 
A  wild  and  many  colored  bow, 
The  remnant  of  their  flashing  path, 
Now  shines !  .   .   . 

At  the  sight  of  this  many-colored  vision  of  light,  where 
both  women  are  entirely  filled  with  desire  and  expecta- 
tion, Anah  makes  use  of  a  simile  full  of  presentiment, 
which  suddenly  allows  us  to  look  down  once  more  into 
the  dismal  dark  depths,  out  of  which  for  a  moment  the 
terrible  animal  nature  of  the  mild  god  of  light  emerges. 

"...  and  now,  behold !  it  hath 
Returned  to  night,  as  rippling  foam, 
Which  the  leviathan  hath  lashed 
From  his  unfathomable  home, 
When  sporting  on  the  face  of  the  calm  deep. 
Subsides  soon  after  he  again  hath  dash'd 
Down,   down   to  where  the  ocean's  fountains  sleep." 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  125 

Thus  like  the  leviathan !  We  recall  this  overpowering 
weight  in  the  scale  of  God's  justice  in  regard  to  the  man 
Job.  There,  where  the  deep  sources  of  the  ocean  are,  the 
leviathan  lives;  from  there  the  all-destroying  flood 
ascends,  the  all-engulfing  flood  of  animal  passion.  That 
stifling,  compressing  feeling  ^^  of  the  onward-surging  im- 
pulse is  projected  mythologically  as  a  flood  which,  rising 
up  and  over  all,  destroys  all  that  exists,  in  order  to  allow 
a  new  and  better  creation  to  come  forth  from  this  de- 
struction. 

Japhet: 

The  eternal  will 

Shall  deign  to  expound  this  dream 
Of  good  and  evil ;  and  redeem 
Unto  himself  all  times,  all  things; 

And,  gather'd  under  his  almighty  wings, 

Abolish  hell! 

And  to  the  expiated  Earth 

Restore  the  beauty  of  her  birth. 

Spirits : 

And  when  shall  take  effect  this  wondrous  spell? 

Japhet : 

When  the  Redeemer  cometh ;  first  in  pain 
And  then  in  glory. 

Spirits : 

New  times,  new  climes,  new  arts,  new  men,  but  still 

The  same  old  tears,  old  crimes,  and  oldest  ill. 

Shall  be  amongst  your  race  in  different  forms; 

But  the  same  mortal  storms 

Shall  oversweep  the  future,  as  the  waves 

In  a  few  hours  the  glorious  giants'  graves. 


126       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

The  prophetic  visions  of  Japhet  have  almost  prophetic 
meaning  for  our  poetess;  with  the  death  of  the  moth  in 
the  Hght,  evil  is  once  more  laid  aside;  the  complex  has 
once  again,  even  if  in  a  censored  form,  expressed  itself. 
With  that,  however,  the  problem  is  not  solved;  all  sor- 
row and  every  longing  begins  again  from  the  beginning, 
but  there  is  "  Promise  in  the  Air  " — the  premonition  of 
the  Redeemer,  of  the  "  Well-beloved,"  of  the  Sun-hero, 
who  again  mounts  to  the  height  of  the  sun  and  again 
descends  to  the  coldness  of  the  winter,  who  is  the  light  of 
hope  from  race  to  race,  the  image  of  the  libido. 


PART  II 

CHAPTER  I 

ASPECTS  OF  THE  LIBIDO 

Before  I  enter  upon  the  contents  of  this  second  part,  it 
seems  necessary  to  cast  a  backward  glance  over  the  sin- 
gular train  of  thought  which  the  analysis  of  the  poem 
"  The  Moth  to  the  Sun  "  has  produced.  Although  this 
poem  is  very  different  from  the  foregoing  Hymn  of  Crea- 
tion, closer  investigation  of  the  "  longing  for  the  sun  " 
has  carried  us  into  the  realm  of  the  fundamental  ideas  of 
religion  and  astral  mythology,  which  ideas  are  closely 
related  to  those  considered  in  the  first  poem.  The  crea- 
tive God  of  the  first  poem,  whose  dual  nature,  moral  and 
physical,  was  shown  especially  clearly  to  us  by  Job,  has 
in  the  second  poem  a  new  qualification  of  astral-mytho- 
logical, or,  to  express  it  better,  of  astrological  character. 
The  God  becomes  the  sun,  and  in  this  finds  an  adequate 
natural  expression  quite  apart  from  the  moral  division  of 
the  God  idea  into  the  heavenly  father  and  the  devil. 
The  sun  is,  as  Renan  remarked,  really  the  only  rational 
representation  of  God,  whether  we  take  the  point  of 
view  of  the  barbarians  of  other  ages  or  that  of  the  modern 
physical  sciences.  In  both  cases  the  sun  is  the  parent  God, 
mythologically  predominantly  the  Father  God,  from 
whom  all  living  things  draw  life;  He  is  the  fructifier  and 

127 


128       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

creator  of  all  that  lives,  the  source  of  energy  of  our 
world.  The  discord  into  which  the  soul  of  man  has  fallen 
through  the  action  oi  moral  laws  ^  can  be  resolved 
into  complete  harmony  through  the  sun  as  the  natural 
object  which  obeys  no  human  moral  lav/.  The  sun  is  not 
only  beneficial,  but  also  destructive;  therefore  the  zodi- 
acal representation  of  the  August  heat  is  the  herd-devour- 
ing lion  whom  the  Jewish  hero  Samson  "  killed  in  order  to 
free  the  parched  earth  from  this  plague.  Yet  it  is  the 
harmonious  and  inherent  nature  of  the  sun  to  scorch,  and 
its  scorching  power  seems  natural  to  men.  It  shines 
equally  on  the  just  and  on  the  unjust,  and  allows  useful 
living  objects  to  flourish  as  well  as  harmful  ones.  There- 
fore, the  sun  is  adapted  as  is  nothing  else  to  represent 
the  visible  God  of  this  world.  That  is  to  say,  that  driving 
strength  of  our  own  soul,  which  we  call  libido,  and 
whose  nature  it  is  to  allow  the  useful  and  injurious,  the 
good  and  the  bad  to  proceed.  That  this  comparison  is  no 
mere  play  of  words  is  taught  us  by  the  mystics.  When 
by  looking  inwards  (introversion)  and  going  down  into 
the  depths  of  their  own  being  they  find  "  in  their  heart " 
the  image  of  the  Sun,  they  find  their  own  love  or  libido, 
which  with  reason,  I  might  say  with  physical  reason,  is 
called  the  Sun;  for  our  source  of  energy  and  life  is  the 
Sun.  Thus  our  life  substance,  as  an  energic  process,  is 
entirely  Sun.  Of  what  special  sort  this  "  Sun  energy  " 
seen  inwardly  by  the  mystic  is,  is  shown  by  an  example 
taken  from  the  Hindoo  mythology.^  From  the  explana- 
tion of  Part  III  of  the  "  Shvetashvataropanishad  "  we 
take  the  following  quotation,  which  relates  to  the  Rudra  :  * 


ASPECTS  OF  THE  LIBIDO  129 

(2)  "Yea,  the  one  Rudra  who  all  these  worlds  with  ruling 
power  doth  rule,  stands  not  for  any  second.  Behind  those  that 
are  born  he  stands;  at  ending  time  ingathers  all  the  worlds  he 
hath  evolved,  protector   (he). 

(3)  "He  hath  eyes  on  all  sides,  on  all  sides  surely  hath  faces, 
arms  surely  on  all  sides,  on  all  sides  feet.  With  arms,  with  wings 
he  tricks  them  out,  creating  heaven  and  earth,  the  only  God. 

(4)  "  Who  of  the  gods  is  both  the  source  and  growth,  the  Lord 
of  all,  the  Rudra.  Mighty  seer;  who  brought  the  shining  germ 
of  old  into  existence — may  he  with  reason  pure  conjoin  us."  ^ 

These  attributes  allow  us  clearly  to  discern  the  all- 
creator  and  in  him  the  Sun,  which  has  wings  and  with  a 
thousand  eyes  scans  the  world.® 

The  following  passages  confirm  the  text  and  join  to  it 
the  idea  most  important  for  us,  that  God  is  also  contained 
in  the  individual  creature : 

(7)  "Beyond  this  (world)  the  Brahman  beyond,  the  mighty 
one,  in  every  creature  hid  according  to  its  form,  the  one  encircling 
Lord  of  all,  Him  having  known,  immortal  they  become. 

(8)  "I  know  this  mighty  man,  Sun-like,  beyond  the  darkness. 
Him  (and  him)  only  knowing,  one  crosseth  over  death;  no  other 
path   (at  all)   is  there  to  go. 

(11)  ".  .  .  spread  over  the  universe  is  He  the  Lord  there- 
fore as  all-pervader,  He's  benign." 

The  powerful  God,  the  equal  of  the  Sun,  Is  In  that 
one,  and  whoever  knows  him  Is  Immortal.^  Going  on 
further  with  the  text,  we  come  upon  a  new  attribute, 
which  Informs  us  in  what  form  and  manner  Rudra  lived 
in  men. 

(12)  "The  mighty  monarch.  He,  the  man,  the  one  who  doth 
the  essence  start  towards  that  peace  of  perfect  stainlessness,  lordly, 
exhaustless  light. 


I30       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

(13)  "The  Man,  the  size  of  a  thumb,  the  inner  self,  sits 
ever  in  the  heart  of  all  that's  born,  by  mind,  mind  ruling  in  the 
heart,  is  He  revealed.  That  they  vi^ho  know,  immortal  they  be- 
come. 

(14)  "The  Man  of  the  thousands  of  heads  (and)  thousands 
of  eyes  (and)  thousands  of  feet,  covering  the  earth  on  all  sides, 
He  stands  beyond,  ten  finger-breadths. 

(15)  "The  Man  is  verily  this  all,  (both)  what  has  been  and 
what  will  be,  Lord  (too)  of  deathlessness  which  far  all  else 
surpasses." 

Important  parallel  quotations  are  to  be  found  in  the 
"  Kathopanishad,"  section  2,  part  4. 

(12)  "The  Man  of  the  size  of  a  thumb,  resides  in  the  midst 
within  the  self,  of  the  past  and  the  future,  the  Lord. 

(13)  "  The  Man  of  the  size  of  a  thumb  like  flame  free  from 
smoke,  of  past  and  of  future  the  Lord,  the  same  is  to-day,  to- 
morrow the  same  will  He  be." 

Who  this  Tom-Thumb  is  can  easily  be  divined — the 
phallic  symbol  of  the  libido.  The  phallus  is  this  hero 
dwarf,  who  performs  great  deeds;  he,  this  ugly  god 
in  homely  form,  who  is  the  great  doer  of  wonders, 
since  he  is  the  visible  expression  of  the  creative  strength 
incarnate  In  man.  This  extraordinary  contrast  is  also 
very  striking  In  "  Faust"   (the  mother  scene)  : 

Mephistopheles: 

I'll  praise  thee  ere  we  separate:  I  see 
Thou  knowest  the  devil  thoroughly: 
Here  take  this  key. 

Faust: 

That  little  thing! 

Mephistopheles: 

Take  hold  of  it,  not  undervaluing! 


ASPECTS  OF  THE  LIBIDO  131 

Faust : 
It  glows,  it  shines,  increases  in  my  hand! 

Mephistopheles: 
How  much  it  is  worth,  thou  soon  shalt  understand, 
The  key  will  scent  the  true  place  from  all  others! 
Follow  it  down  I — 'twill  lead  thee  to  the  Mothers  1  * 

Here  the  devil  again  puts  into  Faust's  hand  the  mar- 
vellous tool,  a  phallic  symbol  of  the  libido,  as  once  before 
in  the  beginning  the  devil,  in  the  form  of  the  black  dog, 
accompanied  Faust,  when  he  introduced  himself  with  the 
words: 

"  Part  of  that  power,  not  understood, 
Which  always  wills  the  bad  and  always  creates  the  good." 

United  to  this  strength,  Faust  succeeded  in  accomplish- 
ing his  real  life  task,  at  first  through  evil  adventure  and 
then  for  the  benefit  of  humanity,  for  without  the  evil 
there  is  no  creative  power.  Here  in  the  mysterious 
mother  scene,  where  the  poet  unveils  the  last  mystery  of 
the  creative  power  to  the  initiated,  Faust  has  need  of  the 
phallic  magic  wand  (In  the  magic  strength  of  which  he 
has  at  first  no  confidence),  in  order  to  perform  the 
greatest  of  wonders,  namely,  the  creation  of  Paris  and 
Helen.  With  that  Faust  attains  the  divine  power  of 
working  miracles,  and,  Indeed,  only  by  means  of  this 
small,  insignificant  Instrument.  This  paradoxical  impres- 
sion seems  to  be  very  ancient,  for  even  the  Upanishads 
could  say  the  following  of  the  dwarf  god: 

*  BaN^ard  Taylor's  translation  of  "  Faust "  is  used  throughout  this  book. 
— Translator. 


132       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

(19)  "  Without  hands,  without  feet,  He  moveth,  He  graspeth: 
Eyeless  He  seeth,  (and)  earless  He  heareth:  He  knoweth  what  is 
to  be  known,  yet  is  there  no  knower  of  Him.  Him  call  the  first, 
mighty   the   Man. 

(20)  "Smaller  than  small,  (yet)  greater  than  great  in  the 
heart  of  this  creature  the  self  doth  repose  .  .  .  etc." 

The  phallus  is  the  being,  which  moves  without  limbs, 
which  sees  without  eyes,  which  knows  the  future ;  and  as 
symbolic  representative  of  the  universal  creative  power 
existent  everywhere  immortality  is  vindicated  In  It.  It  Is 
always  thought  of  as  entirely  Independent,  an  Idea  cur- 
rent not  only  In  antiquity,  but  also  apparent  In  the  porno- 
graphic drawings  of  our  children  and  artists.  It  Is  a  seer, 
an  artist  and  a  worker  of  wonders;  therefore  It  should 
not  surprise  us  when  certain  phallic  characteristics  are 
found  again  In  the  mythological  seer,  artist  and  sorcerer. 
Hephaestus,  WIeland  the  smith,  and  ManI,  the  founder 
of  Manlcheism,  whose  followers  were  also  famous,  have 
crippled  feet.  The  ancient  seer  Melampus  possessed  a 
suggestive  name  (Biackfoot),^  and  It  seems  also  to  be 
typical  for  seers  to  be  blind.  Dwarfed  stature,  ugliness 
and  deformity  have  become  especially  typical  for  those 
mysterious  chthonian  gods,  the  sons  of  Hephaestus,  the 
Cablrl,®  to  whom  great  power  to  perform  miracles  was 
ascribed.  The  name  signifies  "  powerful,"  and  the  Samo- 
thraclan  cult  Is  most  Intimately  united  with  that  of  the  ithy- 
phalllc  Hermes,  who,  according  to  the  account  of  Herodo- 
tus, was  brought  to  Attica  by  the  Pelasgians.  They  are 
also  called  fxsya\ot  Osoi,  the  great  gods.  Their  near 
relations  are  the   "  Idaean  dactyll  "    (finger  or   Idaean 


ASPECTS  OF  THE  LIBIDO  133 

thumb)  ,^°  to  whom  the  mother  of  the  gods  had  taught  the 
blacksmith's  art.  ("The  key  will  scent  the  true  place 
from  all  others !  follow  it  down ! — 't  will  lead  thee  to  the 
Mothers !  ")  They  were  the  first  leaders,  the  teachers  of 
Orpheus,  and  invented  the  Ephesian  magic  formulas  and 
the  musical  rhythms."  The  characteristic  disparity 
which  is  shown  above  in  the  Upanishad  text,  and  in 
"  Faust,"  is  also  found  here,  since  the  gigantic  Hercules 
passed  as  an  Idaean  dactyl. 

The  colossal  Phrygians,  the  skilled  servants  of  Rhea,^^ 
were  also  Dactyli.  The  Babylonian  teacher  of  wisdom, 
Oannes,"  was  represented  in  a  phallic  fish  form."  The 
two  sun  heroes,  the  Dioscuri,  stand  in  relation  to  the 
Cabiri;^^  they  also  wear  the  remarkable  pointed  head- 
covering  (Pileus)  which  is  peculiar  to  these  mysterious 
gods,^^  and  which  is  perpetuated  from  that  time  on  as  a 
secret  mark  of  identification.  Attis  (the  elder  brother  of 
Christ)  wears  the  pointed  cap,  just  as  does  Mithra.  It 
has  also  become  traditional  for  our  present-day  chthonian 
infantile  gods,^^  the  brownies  (Penates),  and  all  the 
typical  kind  of  dwarfs.  Freud  ^^  has  already  called  our  at- 
tention to  the  phallic  meaning  of  the  hat  in  modern  phan- 
tasies. A  further  significance  is  that  probably  the  pointed 
cap  represents  the  foreskin.  In  order  not  to  go  too  far 
afield  from  my  theme,  I  must  be  satisfied  here  merely 
to  present  the  suggestion.  But  at  a  later  opportunity  I 
shall  return  to  this  point  with  detailed  proof. 

The  dwarf  form  leads  to  the  figure  of  the  divine  boy, 
the  puer  etcrnus,  the  young  Dionysus,  Jupiter  Anxurus, 
Tages,^®  and  so  on.     In  the  vase  painting  of  Thebes, 


134       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

already  mentioned,  a  bearded  Dionysus  is  represented 
as  KABEIPO^,  together  with  a  figure  of  a  boy  as  Ilai?, 
followed  by  a  caricatured  boy's  figure  designated  as 
nPAT0AA02  and  then  again  a  caricatured  man,  which 
is  represented  as  MITO^.""  Miro?  really  means  thread, 
but  in  Orphic  speech  it  stands  for  semen.  It  was  con- 
jectured that  this  collection  corresponded  to  a  group  of 
statuary  in  the  sanctuary  of  a  cult.  This  supposition  is 
supported  by  the  history  of  the  cult  as  far  as  it  is  known; 
it  is  an  original  Phenician  cult  of  father  and  son;"  of 
an  old  and  young  Cabir  who  were  more  or  less  assimi- 
lated with  the  Grecian  gods.  The  double  figures  of  the 
adult  and  the  child  Dionysus  lend  themselves  particularly 
to  this  assimilation.  One  might  also  call  this  the  cult 
of  the  large  and  small  man.  Now,  under  various  aspects, 
Dionysus  is  a  phallic  god  in  whose  worship  the  phallus 
held  an  important  place;  for  example,  in  the  cult  of  the 
Argivian  Bull — Dionysus.  Moreover,  the  phallic  herme 
of  the  god  has  given  occasion  for  a  personification  of  the 
phallus  of  Dionysus,  in  the  form  of  the  god  Phales, 
who  is  nothing  else  but  a  Priapus.  He  is  called  iraipo? 
or  ffvyHoofxoi  Bauxov* .^^  Corresponding  to  this  state 
of  affairs,  one  cannot  very  well  fail  to  recognize  in  the  pre- 
viously mentioned  Cabiric  representation,  and  in  the 
added  boy's  figure,  the  picture  of  man  and  his  penis. -^  The 
previously  mentioned  paradox  in  fhe  Upanishad  text 
of  large  and  small,  of  giant  and  dwarf,  is  expressed  more 
mildly  here  by  man  and  boy,  or  father  and  son.^*  The 
motive   of  deformity  which  is  used  constantly  by  the 

*  Comrade — fellow-reveller. 


I 


ASPECTS  OF  THE  LIBIDO  135 


Cablric  cult  is  present  also  In  the  vase  picture,  while  the 
parallel  figures  to  Dionysus  and  IlaU  are  the  carica- 
tured Miro<;  and  UpaToXao?.  Just  as  formerly  the  dif- 
ference in  size  gave  occasion  for  division,  so  does  the 
deformity  here.-^ 

Without  first  bringing  further  proof  to  bear,  I  may 
remark  that  from  this  knowledge  especially  strong  side- 
lights are  thrown  upon  the  original  psychologic  meaning 
of  the  religious  heroes.  Dionysus  stands  In  an  intimate 
relation  with  the  psychology  of  the  early  Asiatic  God 
who  died  and  rose  again  from  the  dead  and  whose  mani- 
fold manifestations  have  been  brought  together  In  the 
figure  of  Christ  Into  a  firm  personality  enduring  for  cen- 
turies. We  gain  from  our  premise  the  knowledge  that 
these  heroes,  as  well  as  their  typical  fates,  are  personi- 
fications of  the  human  libido  and  its  typical  fates.  They 
are  imagery,  like  the  figures  of  our  nightly  dreams — the 
actors  and  interpreters  of  our  secret  thoughts.  And  since 
we,  in  the  present  day,  have  the  power  to  decipher  the 
symbolism  of  dreams  and  thereby  surmise  the  myste- 
rious psychologic  history  of  development  of  the  indi- 
vidual, so  a  way  Is  here  opened  to  the  understanding  of 
the  secret  springs  of  Impulse  beneath  the  psychologic 
development  of  races.  Our  previous  trains  of  thought, 
which  demonstrate  the  phallic  side  of  the  symbolism  of 
the  libido,  also  show  how  thoroughly  justified  Is  the  term 
"  libido."  '^  Originally  taken  from  the  sexual  sphere, 
this  word  has  become  the  most  frequent  technical  expres- 
sion of  psychoanalysis,  for  the  simple  reason  that  Its 
significance  is  wide  enough  to  cover  all  the  unknown  and 


136       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

countless  manifestations  of  the  Will  in  the  sense  of  Scho- 
penhauer. It  is  sufficiently  comprehensive  and  rich  in 
meaning  to  characterize  the  real  nature  of  the  psychical 
entity  which  it  includes.  The  exact  classical  significance 
of  the  word  libido  qualifies  it  as  an  entirely  appro- 
priate term.  Libido  is  taken  in  a  very  wide  sense  in 
Cicero :  ^^ 

"(Volunt  ex  duobus  opinatis)  bonis  (nasci)  Libidinem  et 
Lffititiam;  ut  sit  laetitia  prassentium  bonorum:  libido  futurorum. 
— Laetitia  autem  et  Libido  in  bonorum  opinione  versantur,  cum 
Libido  ad  id,  quod  videtur  bonum,  illecta  et  inflammata  rapiatur. 
— Natura  enim  omnes  ea,  quae  bona  videntur,  sequuntur,  fugi- 
untque  contraria.  Quamobrem  simul  objecta  species  cuiuspiam 
est,  quod  bonum  videatur,  ad  id  adipiscendum  impellit  ipsa  natura. 
Id  cum  constanter  prudenterque  fit,  ejusmodi  appetitionem  stoici 
/SovXr]0iv  appellant,  nos  appellamus  voluntatem;  eam  illi  putant 
in  solo  esse  sapiente,  quam  sic  definiunt;  voluntas  est  quae  quid 
cum  ratione  desiderat:  quae  autem  ratione  adversa  incitata  est 
vehementius,  ea  libido  est,  vel  cupiditas  effrenata,  quae  in  omnibus 
stultis  invenitur."  * 

The  meaning  of  libido  here  is  "  to  wish,"  and  in  the 

stoical  distinction  of  will,  dissolute  desire.    Cicero  ^®  used 

"  libido  "  in  a  corresponding  sense : 

*  From  the  good  proceed  desire  and  joy — joy  having  reference  to  some 
present  good,  and  desire  to  some  future  one — but  joy  and  desire  depend 
upon  the  opinion  of  good;  as  desire  being  inflamed  and  provoked  is  carried 
on  eagerly  toward  what  has  the  appearance  of  good,  and  joy  is  trans- 
ported and  exults  on  obtaining  what  was  desired:  for  we  naturally  pursue 
those  things  that  have  the  appearance  of  good,  and  avoid  the  con- 
trary— wherefore  as  soon  as  anything  that  has  the  appearance  of  good 
presents  itself,  nature  incites  us  to  endeavor  to  obtain  it.  Now  where  this 
strong  desire  is  consistent  and  founded  on  prudence,  it  is  by  the  stoics 
called  Bulesis  and  the  name  which  we  give  it  is  volition,  and  this  they 
allow  to  none  but  their  wise  men,  and  define  it  thus;  volition  is  a  reason- 
able desire;  but  whatever  is  incited  too  violently  in  opposition  to  reason, 
that  is  a  lust  or  an  unbridled  desire  which  is  discoverable  in  all  fools. 
— The  Tusculan  Disputation,  Cicero,  page  403. 


I 


ASPECTS  OF  THE  LIBIDO  137 

"  Agere  rem  aliquam  libidine,  non  ratione."  * 

In  the  same  sense  Sallust  says: 

"  Iracundia  pars  est  libidinis." 

In  another  place  in  a  milder  and  more  general  scn;c, 
which  completely  approaches  the  analytical  use : 

"  Magisque  in  decoris  armis  et  militaribus  equis,  quam  i:; 
scortis  et  conviviis  libidinem  habebant."  * 

Also: 

"  Quod  si  tibi  bona  libido  fuerit  patriae,  etc." 

The  use  of  libido  is  so  general  that  the  phrase  "  libido 
est  scire  "  merely  had  the  significance  of  "  I  will,  it  pleases 
me."  In  the  phrase  "  aliquam  libido  urinae  lacessit " 
libido  had  the  meaning  of  urgency.  The  significance  of 
sexual  desire  is  also  present  in  the  classics. 

This  general  classical  application  of  the  conception 
agrees  with  the  corresponding  etymological  context  of 
the  word,  libido  or  lubido  (with  Ubet,  more  ancient 
lubet) ,  it  pleases  me,  and  libens  or  lubens  =  gladly,  will- 
ingly. Sanskrit,  lubhyati  =■  to  experience  violent  longing, 
lobhayati  =  excites  longing,  hibdha-h  =  eager,  I6bha-h  = 
longing,  eagerness.  Gothic  =  liufs,  and  Old  High  Ger- 
man Hob  =  love.  Moreover,  in  Gothic,  liibains  was  rep- 
resented as  hope;  and  Old  High  German,  lob  on  ==  to 
praise,  lob  =  commendation,  praise,  glory;  Old  Bulga- 
rian,  Ijubiti  =  to   love,   Ijuby  =  love ;   Lithuanian,   lidup- 

*  Libido  is  used  for  arms  and  military  horses  rather  than  for  dissipations 
and  banauets. 


138       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

sinti  =  to  praise. ^^  It  can  be  said  that  the  conception 
of  libido  as  developed  in  the  new  work  of  Freud  and  of 
his  school  has  functionally  the  same  significance  in  the 
biological  territory  as  has  the  conception  of  energy  since 
the  time  of  Robert  Mayer  in  the  physical  realm.""  It 
may  not  be  superfluous  to  say  something  more  at  this 
point  concerning  the  conception  of  libido  after  we  have 
followed  the  formation  of  its  symbol  to  its  highest  ex- 
pression in  the  human  form  of  the  religious  hero. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  CONCEPTION  AND  THE  GENETIC 
THEORY  OF  LIBIDO 

The  chief  source  of  the  history  of  the  analytic  con- 
ception  of  hbido  is  Freud's  "  Three  Contributions  to  the 
Sexual  Theory."  There  the  term  libido  is  conceived  by 
him  in  the  original  narrow  sense  of  sexual  impulse,  sexual 
need.  Experience  forces  us  to  the  assumption  of  a 
capacity  for  displacement  of  the  libido,  because  functions 
or  localizations  of  non-sexual  force  are  undoubtedly 
capable  of  taking  up  a  certain  amount  of  libidinous  sexual 
impetus,  a  libidinous  afflux.^  Functions  or  objects  could, 
therefore,  obtain  sexual  value,  which  under  normal  cir- 
cumstances really  have  nothing  to  do  with  sexuality.^ 
From  this  fact  results  the  Freudian  comparison  of  the 
libido  with  a  stream,  which  is  divisible,  which  can  be 
dammed  up,  which  overflows  into  branches,  and  so  on.^ 
Freud's  original  conception  does  not  interpret  "  every- 
thing sexual,"  although  this  has  been  asserted  by  critics, 
but  recognizes  the  existence  of  certain  forces,  the  nature 
of  which  are  not  well  known;  to  which  Freud,  however, 
compelled  by  the  notorious  facts  which  are  evident  to 
any  layman,  grants  the  capacity  to  receive  "  affluxes  of 
libido."  The  hypothetical  idea  at  the  basis  is  the  symbol 
of  the  "  Triebbiindel  "  *  (bundle  of  impulses),  wherein 
the  sexual  impulse  figures  as  a  partial  impulse  of  the  whole 

139 


I40       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

system,  and  its  encroachment  into  the  other  realms  of 
impulse  is  a  fact  of  experience.  The  theory  of  Freud, 
branching  off  from  this  interpretation,  according  to  which 
the  motor  forces  of  a  neurotic  system  correspond  pre- 
cisely to  their  libidinous  additions  to  other  (non-sexual) 
functional  impulses,  has  been  sufficiently  proven  as  cor- 
rect, it  seems  to  me,  by  the  work  of  Freud  and  his  school,^ 
Since  the  appearance  of  the  "  Three  Contributions,"  in 
1905,  a  change  has  taken  place  *  in  the  libido  conception; 
its  field  of  application  has  been  widened.  An  extremely 
clear  example  of  this  amplification  is  this  present  work. 
However,  I  must  state  that  Freud,  as  well  as  myself, 
saw  the  need  of  widening  the  conception  of  libido.  It 
was  paranoia,  so  closely  related  to  dementia  praecox, 
which  seemed  to  compel  Freud  to  enlarge  the  earlier 
limits  of  the  conception.  The  passage  in  question,  which 
I  will  quote  here,  word  for  word,  reads:  "^ 

"  A  third  consideration  which  presents  itself,  in  regard  to  the 
views  developed  here,  starts  the  query  as  to  whether  we  should 
accept  as  sufficiently  effectual  the  universal  receding  of  the  libido 
from  the  outer  world,  in  order  to  interpret  from  that,  the  end  of 
the  world:  or  whether  in  this  case,  the  firmly  rooted  possession 
of  the  '  I '  must  not  suffice  to  uphold  the  rapport  with  the  outer 
world.  Then  one  must  either  let  that  which  we  call  possession 
of  the  libido  (interest  from  erotic  sources)  coincide  with  interest 
in  general,  or  else  take  into  consideration  the  possibility  that  great 
disturbance  in  the  disposition  of  the  libido  can  also  induce  a  corre- 
sponding disturbance  in  the  possession  of  the  '  I.'  Now,  these  are 
the  problems,  which  we  are  still  absolutely  helpless  and  unfitted 
to  answer.  Things  would  be  different  could  we  proceed  from  a 
safe  fund  of  knowledge  of  instinct.  But  the  truth  is,  we  have 
nothing  of  that  kind  at  our  disposal.  We  understand  instinct 
as  the  resultant  of  the  reaction  of  the  somatic  and  the  psychic. 


CONCEPTION  AND  THEORY  OF  LIBIDO      141 

We  see  in  it  the  psychical  representation  of  organic  forces  and 
take  the  popular  distinction  between  the  *  I '  impulse  and  the 
sexual  impulse,  which  appears  to  us  to  be  in  accord  with  the 
biological  double  role  of  the  individual  being  who  aspires  to  his 
own  preservation  as  well  as  to  the  preservation  of  the  species. 
But  anything  beyond  this  is  a  structure,  which  we  set  up,  and 
also  willingly  let  fall  again  in  order  to  orient  ourselves  in  the 
confusion  of  the  dark  processes  of  the  soul ;  we  expect  particularly, 
from  the  psychoanalytic  investigations  into  diseased  soul  processes, 
to  have  certain  decisions  forced  upon  us  in  regard  to  questions  of 
the  theory  of  instinct.  This  expectation  has  not  yet  been  fulfilled 
on  account  of  the  still  immature  and  limited  investigations  in  these 
fields.  At  present  the  possibility  of  the  reaction  of  libido  dis- 
turbance upon  the  possession  of  the  '  I '  can  be  shown  as  little 
as  the  reverse;  the  secondary  or  induced  disturbances  of  the 
libido  processes  through  abnormal  changes  in  the  '  I.'  It  is  prob- 
able that  processes  of  this  sort  form  the  distinctive  character  of 
the  psychoses.  The  conclusions  arising  from  this,  in  relation  to 
paranoia,  are  at  present  uncertain.  One  cannot  assert  that  the 
paranoiac  has  completely  withdrawn  his  interest  from  the  outer 
world,  nor  withdrawn  into  the  heights  of  repression,  as  one  some- 
times sees  in  certain  other  forms  of  hallucinatory  psychoses.  He 
takes  notice  of  the  outer  world,  he  takes  account  of  its  changes,  he 
is  stirred  to  explanations  by  their  influence,  and  therefore  I  con- 
sider it  highly  probable  that  the  changed  relation  to  the  world  is 
to  be  explained,  wholly  or  in  great  part,  by  the  deficiency  of  the 
libido  interest." 

In  this  passage  Freud  plainly  touches  upon  the  ques- 
tion whether  the  well-known  longing  for  reality  of  the 
paranoic  dement  (and  the  dementia  praecox  patients),* 
to  whom  I  have  especially  called  attention  In  my  book, 
"  The  Psychology  of  Dementia  Prascox,"  ®  is  to  be  traced 
back  to  the  withdrawal  of  the  "  libidinous  affluxes " 
alone,  or  whether  this  coincides  with  the  so-called  ob- 
jective Interest  In  general.     It  Is  hardly  to  be  assumed 


142       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

that  the  normal  "  fonction  du  reel  "  (Janet)  "  is  main- 
tained only  through  affluxes  of  libido  or  erotic  interest. 
The  fact  is  that  in  very  many  cases  realit}  disappears 
entirely,  so  that  not  a  trace  of  psychological  adaptation 
or  orientation  can  be  recognized.  Reality  is  repressed 
under  these  circumstances  and  replaced  by  the  contents 
of  the  complex.  One  must  of  necessity  say  that  not  only 
the  erotic  interest  but  the  interest  in  general  has  disap- 
peared, that  is  to  say,  the  whole  adaptation  to  reality  has 
ceased.  To  this  category  belong  the  stuporose  and  cata- 
tonic automatons. 

I  have  previously  made  use  of  the  expression  "  psychic 
energy  "  in  my  "  Psychology  of  Dementia  Prsecox  "  be- 
cause I  was  unable  to  establish  the  theory  of  this  psy- 
chosis upon  the  conception  of  the  displacement  of  the 
affluxes  of  libido.  My  experience,  at  that  time  chiefly 
psychiatric,  did  not  enable  me  to  understand  this  theory. 
However,  the  correctness  of  this  theory  in  regard  to 
neuroses,  strictly  speaking  the  transference  neuroses,  was 
proven  to  me  later  after  increased  experience  in  the  field 
of  hysteria  and  compulsion  neuroses.  In  the  territory 
of  these  neuroses  it  is  mainly  a  question  whether  any 
portion  of  the  libido  which  is  spared  through  the  specific 
repression  becomes  Introverted  and  regressive  into 
earlier  paths  of  transference;  for  example,  the  path  of 
the  parental  transference."  With  that,  however,  the 
former  non-sexual  psychologic  adaptation  to  the  environ- 
ment remains  preserved  so  far  as  it  does  not  concern  the 
erotic  and  Its  secondary  positions  (symptoms).  The 
reality  which  is  lacking  to  the  patients  is  just  that  portion 


CONCEPTION  AND  THEORY  OF  LIBIDO      143 

of  the  libido  to  be  found  in  the  neurosis.  In  dementia 
praecox,  on  the  contrary,  not  merely  that  portion  of  libido 
which  is  saved  in  the  well-known  specific  sexual  repression 
is  lacking  for  reality,  but  much  more  than  one  could  write 
down  to  the  account  of  sexuality  in  a  strict  sense.  The 
function  of  reality  is  lacking  to  such  a  degree  that  even 
the  motive  power  must  be  encroached  upon  in  the  loss. 
The  sexual  character  of  this  must  be  disputed  absolutely,^^ 
for  reality  is  not  understood  to  be  a  sexual  function. 
Moreover,  if  that  were  so,  the  introversion  of  the  libido 
in  the  strict  sense  must  have  as  a  result  a  loss  of  reality 
in  the  neuroses,  and,  indeed,  a  loss  which  could  be  com- 
pared with  that  of  dementia  praecox.  These  facts  have 
rendered  it  impossible  for  me  to  transfer  Freud's  theory 
of  libido  to  dementia  prascox,  and,  therefore,  I  am  of 
the  opinion  that  Abraham's  investigation  ^^  is  hardly  ten- 
able theoretically,  from  the  standpoint  of  the  Freudian 
theory  of  libido.  If  Abraham  believes  that  through  the 
withdrawal  of  the  libido  from  the  outer  world  the  para- 
noid system  or  the  schizophrenic  symptomatology  results, 
then  this  assumption  is  not  justified  from  the  standpoint 
of  the  knowledge  of  that  time,  because  a  mere  libido  in- 
troversion and  regression  leads,  speedily,  as  Freud  has 
clearly  shown,  into  the  neuroses,  and,  strictly  speaking, 
into  the  transference  neuroses,  and  not  into  dementia 
praecox.  Therefore,  the  transference  of  the  libido  theory 
to  dementia  praecox  is  impossible,  because  this  illness 
produces  a  loss  of  reality  which  cannot  be  explained  by 
the  deficiency  of  the  libido  defined  in  this  narrow  sense. 
It  affords  me  especial  satisfaction  that  o\ir  teacher  also, 


144       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

when  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  dehcate  material  of  the  para- 
noic psychology,  was  forced  to  doubt  the  applicability  of 
the  conception  of  libido  held  by  him  at  that  time.  The 
sexual  definition  of  this  did  not  permit  me  to  understand 
those  disurbances  of  function,  which  affect  the  vague  ter- 
ritory of  the  hunger  instinct  just  as  much  as  that  of  the 
sexual  instinct.  For  a  long  time  the  theory  of  libido 
seemed  to  me  inapplicable  to  dementia  prsecox.  With 
increasing  experience  in  analytical  work,  however,  I  be- 
came aware  of  a  gradual  change  in  my  conception  of 
libido.  In  place  of  the  descriptive  definition  of  the 
"  Three  Contributions  "  there  gradually  grew  up  a  genetic 
definition  of  the  libido,  which  rendered  it  possible  for  me 
to  replace  the  expression  "  psychic  energy  "  by  the  term 
"  libido."  I  was  forced  to  ask  myself  whether  indeed  the 
function  of  reality  to-day  does  not  consist  only  in  its 
smaller  part  of  libido  sexuahs  and  in  the  greater  part  of 
other  impulses?  It  is  still  a  very  important  question 
whether  phylogenetically  the  function  of  reality  is  not,  at 
least  in  great  part,  of  sexual  origin.  To  answer  this  ques- 
tion directly  in  regard  to  the  function  of  reality  is  not 
possible,  but  we  shall  attempt  to  come  to  an  understand- 
ing indirectly. 

A  fleeting  glance  at  the  history  of  evolution  is  sufficient 
to  teach  us  that  countless  complicated  functions  to  which 
to-day  must  be  denied  any  sexual  character  were  orig- 
inally pure  derivations  from  the  general  impulse  of 
propagation.  During  the  ascent  through  the  animal  king- 
dom an  Important  displacement  in  the  fundamentals  of 
the  procreative  Instinct  has  taken  place.     The  mass  of 


CONCEPTION  AND  THEORY  OF  LIBIDO      145 

the  reproductive  products  with  the  uncertainty  of  fer- 
tilization has  more  and  more  been  replaced  by  a  controlled 
impregnation  and  an  effective  protection  of  the  offspring. 
In  this  way  part  of  the  energy  required  in  the  production 
of  eggs  and  sperma  has  been  transposed  into  the  creation 
of  mechanisms  for  allurement  and  for  protection  of  the 
young.  Thus  we  discover  the  first  instincts  of  art  in  ani- 
mals used  in  the  service  of  the  impulse  of  creation,  and 
limited  to  the  breeding  season.  The  original  sexual  char- 
acter of  these  biological  institutions  became  lost  in  their 
organic  fixation  and  functional  independence.  Even  if 
there  can  be  no  doubt  about  the  sexual  origin  of  music, 
still  it  would  be  a  poor,  unaesthetic  generalization  if  one 
were  to  include  music  in  the  category  of  sexuality.  A 
similar  nomenclature  would  then  lead  us  to  classify  the 
cathedral  of  Cologne  as  mineralogy  because  it  is  built 
of  stones.  It  can  be  a  surprise  only  to  those  to  whom  the 
history  of  evolution  is  unknown  to  find  how  few  things 
there  really  are  in  human  life  which  cannot  be  reduced  in 
the  last  analysis  to  the  instinct  of  procreation.  It  includes 
very  nearly  everything,  I  think,  which  is  beloved  and  dear 
to  us.  We  spoke  just  now  of  libido  as  the  creative  im- 
pulse and  at  the  same  time  we  allied  ourselves  with  the 
conception  which  opposes  libido  to  hunger  in  the  same  way 
that  the  instinct  of  the  preservation  of  the  species  is 
opposed  to  the  instinct  of  self-preservation.  In  nature, 
this  artificial  distinction  does  not  exist.  Here  we  see  only 
a  continuous  life  impulse,  a  will  to  live  which  will  attain 
the  creation  of  the  whole  species  through  the  preservation 
of  the  individual.    Thus  far  this  conception  coincides  with 


146       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

the  idea  of  the  Will  in  Schopenhauer,  for  we  can  conceive 
Will  objectively,  only  as  a  manifestation  of  an  internal 
desire.  This  throwing  of  psychological  perceptions  into 
material  reality  is  characterized  philosophically  as  "  in- 
trojection."  (Ferenczi's  conception  of  "  introjection " 
denoted  the  reverse,  that  is,  the  taking  of  the  outer  world 
into  the  inner  world.  )^*  Naturally,  the  conception  of  the 
world  was  distorted  by  introjection.  Freud's  conception 
of  the  principle  of  desire  is  a  voluntary  formulation  of  the 
idea  of  introjection,  while  his  once  more  voluntarily  con- 
ceived "  principle  of  reality  "  corresponds  functionally  to 
that  which  I  designate  as  "  corrective  of  reality,"  and  R. 
Avenarius  ^^  designates  as  "  empiriokritische  Prinzipial- 
koordination."  The  conception  of  power  owes  its  exist- 
ence to  this  very  introjection;  this  has  already  been  said 
expressively  by  Galileo  in  his  remark  that  its  origin  is 
to  be  sought  in  the  subjective  perception  of  the  muscular 
power  of  the  individual.  Because  we  have  already  arrived 
at  the  daring  assumption  that  the  libido,  which  was  em- 
ployed originally  in  the  exclusive  service  of  egg  and  seed 
production,  now  appears  firmly  organized  in  the  function 
of  nest-building,  and  can  no  longer  be  employed  other- 
wise; similarly  this  conception  forces  us  to  relate  it  to 
every  desire,  including  hunger.  For  now  we  can  no  longer 
make  any  essential  distinction  between  the  will  to  build  a 
nest  and  the  will  to  eat.  This  view  brings  us  to  a  con- 
ception of  libido,  which  extends  over  the  boundaries  of  the 
physical  sciences  into  a  philosophical  aspect — to  a  con- 
ception of  the  will  in  general.  I  must  give  this  bit  of 
psychological   "  Voluntarismus  "  into  the  hands  of  the 


CONCEPTION  AND  THEORY  OF  LIBIDO      147 

philosophers  for  them  to  manage.  For  the  rest  I  refer 
to  the  words  of  Schopenhauer  ^®  relating  to  this.  In  con- 
nection with  the  psychology  of  this  conception  (by  which 
I  understand  neither  metapsychology  nor  metaphysics)  I 
am  reminded  here  of  the  cosmogenic  meaning  of  Eros  in 
Plato  and  Hesiod/'  and  also  of  the  orphic  figure  of 
Phanes,  the  ''  shining  one,"  the  first  created,  the  "  father 
of  Eros."  Phanes  has  also  orphically  the  significance  of 
Priapus;  he  is  a  god  of  love,  bisexual  and  similar  to  the 
Theban  Dionysus  Lysios.^^  The  orphic  meaning  of 
Phanes  is  similar  to  that  of  the  Indian  Kama,  the  god  of 
love,  which  is  also  the  cosmogenic  principle.  To  Plotinus, 
of  the  Neo-Platonic  school,  the  world-soul  is  the  energy 
of  the  intellect. ^^  Plotinus  compares  "  The  One,"  the  crea- 
tive primal  principle,  with  light  in  general;  the  intellect 
with  the  Sun  (  5  ) ,  the  world-soul  with  the  moon  (  9  ) . 
In  another  comparison  Plotinus  compares  "  The  One  " 
with  the  Father,  the  intellect  with  the  Son.'"  The  "  One  " 
designated  as  Uranus  is  transcendent.  The  son  as  Kronos 
has  dominion  over  the  visible  world.  The  world-soul 
(designated  as  Zeus)  appears  as  subordinate  to  him.  The 
"  One,"  or  the  Usia  of  the  whole  existence  is  designated 
by  Plotinus  as  hypostatic,  also  as  the  three  forms  of  ema- 
nation, also  Mia  ovaia  e'v  tpifflv  vTrofftaffeatv*  As  Drews 
observed,  this  is  also  the  formula  of  the  Christian 
Trinity  (God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and  God  the  Holy 
Ghost)  as  it  was  decided  upon  at  the  councils  of  Nicea 
and  Constantinople.'^  It  may  also  be  noticed  that  certain 
early  Christian  sectarians  attributed  a  maternal  signifi- 

*  One  substance  in  three  forms. 


148       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

cance  to  the  Holy  Ghost  (world-soul,  moon) .  (See  what 
follows  concerning  Chi  of  Timasus.)  According  to  Plo- 
tlnus,  the  world-soul  has  a  tendency  toward  a  divided 
existence  and  towards  divisibility,  the  conditio  sine  qua 
non  of  all  change,  creation  and  procreation  (also  a  ma- 
ternal quality).  It  is  an  "unending  all  of  life"  and 
wholly  energy;  it  is  a  living  organism  of  Ideas,  which 
attain  in  it  effectiveness  and  reality.^^  The  intellect  Is 
its  procreator,  its  father,  which,  having  conceived  it, 
brings  it  to  development  in  thought.^^ 

"  What  lies  enclosed  in  the  intellect,  comes  to  development  in 
the  world-soul  as  logos,  fills  it  with  meaning  and  makes  it  as  if 
intoxicated  with  nectar."  2* 

Nectar  is  analogous  to  soma,  the  drink  of  fertility  and 
of  life,  also  to  sperma.  The  soul  is  fructified  by  the 
intellect;  as  oversoul  It  is  called  heavenly  Aphrodite,  as 
the  undersoul  the  earthly  Aphrodite.  "  It  knows  the  birth 
pangs,"  -^  and  so  on.  The  bird  of  Aphrodite,  the  dove, 
is  not  without  good  cause  the  symbol  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

This  fragment  of  the  history  of  philosophy,  which  may 
easily  be  enlarged,  shows  the  significance  of  the  endo- 
psychlc  perception  of  the  libido  and  of  Its  symbolism  in 
human  thought. 

In  the  diversity  of  natural  phenomena  we  see  the  de- 
sire, the  libido,  In  the  most  diverse  applications  and  forms. 
We  see  the  libido  in  the  stage  of  childhood  almost  wholly 
occupied  in  the  Instinct  of  nutrition,  which  takes  care  of 
the  upbuilding  of  the  body.  With  the  development  of  the 
body  there  are  successively  opened  new  spheres  of  appli- 


I 


CONCEPTION  AND  THEORY  OF  LIBIDO      149 


cation  for  the  libido.  The  last  sphere  of  application,  and 
surpassing  all  the  others  in  its  functional  significance,  is 
sexuality,  which  seems  at  first  almost  bound  up  with  the 
function  of  nutrition.  (Compare  with  this  the  influence  on 
procreation  of  the  conditions  of  nutrition  in  lower  ani- 
mals and  plants.)  In  the  territory  of  sexuality,  the  libido 
wins  that  formation,  the  enormous  importance  of  which 
has  justified  us  in  the  use  of  the  term  libido  in  general. 
Here  the  libido  appears  very  properly  as  an  impulse  of 
procreation,  and  almost  in  the  form  of  an  undifferentiated 
sexual  primal  libido,  as  an  energy  of  growth,  which 
clearly  forces  the  individual  towards  division,  budding, 
etc.  (The  clearest  distinction  between  the  two  forms  of 
libido  is  to  be  found  among  those  animals  in  whom  the 
stage  of  nutrition  is  separated  from  the  sexual  stage  by 
a  chrysalis  stage.) 
'  From  that  sexual  primal  libido  which  produced  millions 
of  eggs  and  seeds  from  one  small  creature  derivatives 
have  been  developed  with  the  great  limitation  of  the 
fecundity;  derivatives  in  which  the  functions  are  main- 
tained by  a  special  differentiated  libido.  This  differen- 
tiated libido  is  henceforth  desexualized  because  it  is  dis- 
sociated from  its  original  function  of  egg  and  sperma 
production;  nor  is  there  any  possibility  of  restoring  it  to 
Its  original  function.  Thus,  in  general,  the  process  of 
development  consists  in  an  increasing  transformation  of 
the  primal  libido  which  only  produced  products  of 
generation  to  the  secondary  functions  of  allurement  and 
protection  of  the  young.  This  now  presupposes  a  very 
different  and  very  complicated  relation  to  reality,  a  true 


I50       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

function  of  reality,  which,  functionally  inseparable,  is 
bound  up  with  the  needs  of  procreation.  Thus  the  altered 
mode  of  procreation  carries  with  it  as  a  correlate  a  cor- 
respondingly heightened  adaptation  to  reality.^'' 

In  this  way  we  attain  an  insight  into  certain  primitive 
conditions  of  the  function  of  reality.  It  would  be  radically 
wrong  to  say  that  its  compelling  power  is  a  sexual  one. 
It  was  a  sexual  one  to  a  large  extent.  The  process  of 
transformation  of  the  primal  libido  into  secondary  im- 
pulses always  took  place  in  the  form  of  affluxes  of  sexual 
libido,  that  is  to  say,  sexuality  became  deflected  from  its 
original  destination  and  a  portion  of  it  turned,  little  by 
little,  increasing  in  amount,  into  the  phylogenetic  impulse 
of  the  mechanisms  of  allurement  and  of  protection  of  the 
young.  This  diversion  of  the  sexual  libido  from  the 
sexual  territory  into  associated  functions  is  still  taking 
place."  Where  this  operation  succeeds  without  injury  to 
the  adaptation  of  the  individual  it  is  called  sublimation. 
Where  the  attempt  does  not  succeed  it  is  called  repression. 

The  descriptive  standpoint  of  psychology  accepts  the 
multiplicity  of  instincts,  among  which  is  the  sexual  instinct, 
as  a  special  phenomenon;  moreover,  it  recognizes  certain 
affluxes  of  libido  to  non-sexual  instincts. 

Quite  otherwise  is  the  genetic  standpoint.  It  regards 
the  multiplicity  of  instincts  as  issuing  from  a  relative 
unity,  the  primal  libido ;  ^^  it  recognizes  that  definite 
amounts  of  the  primal  libido  are  split  off,  as  it  were,  asso- 
ciated with  the  newly  formed  functions  and  finally  merged 
in  them.  As  a  result  of  this  it  is  impossible,  from  the 
genetic  standpoint,  to  hold  to  the  strictly  limited  concep- 


CONCEPTION  AND  THEORY  OF  LIBIDO      151 

tion  of  libido  of  the  descriptive  standpoint;  it  leads  in- 
evitably to  a  broadening  of  the  conception.  With  this  we 
come  to  the  theory  of  libido  that  I  have  surreptitiously 
introduced  into  the  first  part  of  this  work  for  the  pur- 
pose of  making  this  genetic  conception  familiar  to  the 
reader.  The  explanation  of  this  harmless  deceit  I  have 
saved  until  the  second  part. 

For  the  first  time,  through  this  genetic  idea  of  libido, 
which  in  every  way  surpasses  the  descriptive  sexual,  the 
transference  was  made  possible  of  the  Freudian  libido 
theory  into  the  psychology  of  mental  disease.  The  pas- 
sage quoted  above  shows  how  the  present  Freudian  con- 
ception of  libido  collides  with  the  problem  of  the 
psychoses.-^  Therefore,  when  I  speak  of  libido,  I  asso- 
ciate with  it  the  genetic  conception  which  contains  not 
only  the  immediate  sexual  but  also  an  amount  of  desexual- 
ized  primal  libido.  When  I  say  a  sick  person  takes  his 
libido  away  from  the  outer  world,  in  order  to  take  pos- 
session of  the  inner  world  with  it,  I  do  not  mean  that 
he  takes  away  merely  the  affluxes  from  the  function  of 
reality,  but  he  takes  energy  away,  according  to  my  view, 
from  those  desexualized  instincts  which  regularly  and 
properly  support  the  function  of  reality. 

With  this  alteration  in  the  libido  conception,  certain 
parts  of  our  terminology  need  revision  as  well.  As  we 
know,  Abraham  has  undertaken  the  experiment  of  trans- 
ferring the  Freudian  libido  theory  to  dementia  praecox 
and  has  conceived  the  characteristic  lack  of  rapport  and 
the  cessation  of  the  function  of  reality  as  autoerotism. 
This  conception  needs  revision.     Hysterical  introversion 


152        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

of  the  libido  leads  to  autoerotism,  since  the  patient's  erotic 
afflux  of  libido  designed  for  the  function  of  adaptation 
is  introverted,  whereby  his  ego  is  occupied  by  the  corre- 
sponding amount  of  erotic  libido.  The  schizophrenic, 
however,  shuns  reality  far  more  than  merely  the  erotic 
afflux  would  account  for;  therefore,  his  inner  condition  is 
very  different  from  that  of  the  hysteric.  He  is  more  than 
autoerotic,  he  builds  up  an  intra-psychic  equivalent  for 
reality,  for  which  purpose  he  has  necessarily  to  employ 
other  dynamics  than  that  afforded  by  the  erotic  afflux. 
Therefore,  I  must  grant  to  Bleuler  the  right  to  reject  the 
conception  of  autoerotism,  taken  from  the  study  of  hys- 
terical neuroses,  and  there  legitimate,  and  to  replace  it 
by  the  conception  of  autismus.^"  I  am  forced  to  say  that 
this  term  is  better  fitted  to  facts  than  autoerotism.  With 
this  I  acknowledge  my  earlier  idea  of  the  identity  of 
autismus  (Bleuler)  and  autoerotism  (Freud)  as  unjusti- 
fied, and,  therefore,  retract  it.'^^  This  thorough  revision 
of  the  conception  of  libido  has  compelled  me  to  this. 

From  these  considerations  it  follows  necessarily  that 
the  descriptive  psychologic  conception  of  libido  must  be  ! 
given  up  in  order  for  the  libido  theory  to  be  applied  to 
dementia  praecox.  That  it  is  there  applicable  is  best 
shown  in  Freud's  brilliant  investigation  of  Schreber's 
phantasies.  The  question  now  is  whether  this  genetic 
conception  of  libido  proposed  by  me  is  suitable  for  the 
neuroses.  I  believe  that  this  question  may  be  answered 
affirmatively.  "  Natura  non  fecit  saltum  " — it  is  not  merely 
to  be  expected  but  it  is  also  probable  that  at  least  tem- 
porary functional  disturbances  of  various  degrees  appear 


CONCEPTION  AND  THEORY  OF  LIBIDO      153 

in  the  neuroses,  which  transcend  the  boundaries  of  the 
immediate  sexual;  in  any  case,  this  occurs  in  psychotic 
episodes.  I  consider  the  broadening  of  the  conception  of 
hbido  which  has  developed  through  the  most  recent  an- 
alytic work  as  a  real  advance  which  will  prove  of  especial 
advantage  in  the  important  field  of  the  introversion  psy- 
choses. Proofs  of  the  correctness  of  my  assumption  are 
already  at  hand.  It  has  become  apparent  through  a  series 
of  researches  of  the  Zurich  School,  which  are  now  pub- 
lished in  part,^^  that  the  phantastic  substitution  products 
which  take  the  place  of  the  disturbed  function  of  reahty 
bear  unmistakable  traces  of  archaic  thought.  This  con- 
firmation is  parallel  to  the  postulate  asserted  above,  ac- 
cording to  which  reality  is  deprived,  not  merely  of  an 
immediate  (individual)  amount  of  libido,  but  also  of  an 
already  differentiated  or  desexualized  quantity  of  libido, 
which,  among  normal  people,  has  belonged  to  the  function 
of  reality  ever  since  prehistoric  times.  A  dropping  away 
of  the  last  acquisition  of  the  function  of  reality  (or  adapta- 
tion) must  of  necessity  be  replaced  by  an  earlier  mode  of 
adaptation.  We  find  this  principle  already  in  the  doc- 
trines of  the  neuroses,  that  is,  that  a  repression  resulting 
from  the  failure  of  the  recent  transference  is  replaced  by 
an  old  way  of  transference,  namely,  through  a  regressive 
revival  of  the  parent  imago.  In  the  transference  neurosis 
(hysterical),  where  merely  a  part  of  the  immediate 
sexual  libido  is  taken  away  from  reality  by  the  specific 
sexual  repression,  the  substituted  product  is  a  phantasy 
of  individual  origin  and  significance,  with  only  a  trace 
of  those  archaic  traits  found  in  the  phantasies  of  those 


154       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

mental  disorders  In  which  a  portion  of  the  general  human 
function  of  reality  organized  since  antiquity  has  broken 
off.  This  portion  can  be  replaced  only  by  a  generally 
valid  archaic  surrogate.  We  owe  a  simple  and  clear  ex- 
ample of  this  proposition  to  the  investigation  of  Honeg- 
ger."^  A  paranoic  of  good  intelligence  who  has  a  clear 
idea  of  the  spherical  form  of  the  earth  and  its  rotation 
around  the  sun  replaces  the  modern  astronomical  views 
by  a  system  worked  out  in  great  detail,  which  one  must 
call  archaic,  in  which  the  earth  is  a  flat  disc  over  which 
the  sun  travels.^*  (I  am  reminded  of  the  sun-phallus 
mentioned  in  the  first  part  of  this  book,  for  which  we  are 
also  indebted  to  Honegger. )  Spielrein  has  likewise  fur- 
nished some  very  interesting  examples  of  archaic  defini- 
tions which  begin  in  certain  illnesses  to  overlay  the  real 
meanings  of  the  modern  word.  For  example,  Spielrein's 
patient  had  correctly  discovered  the  mythological  signifi- 
cance of  alcohol,  the  intoxicating  drink,  to  be  "  an  effusion 
of  seed."  ^^  She  also  had  a  symbolism  of  boiling  which  I 
must  place  parallel  to  the  especially  important  alchemistic 
vision  of  Zosimos,^^  who  found  people  in  boiling  water 
within  the  cavity  of  the  altar."  This  patient  used  earth 
in  place  of  mother,  and  also  water  to  express  mother.^®  I 
refrain  from  further  examples  because  future  work  of  the 
Zurich  School  will  furnish  abundant  evidence  of  this  sort. 

My  foregoing  proposition  of  the  replacement  of  the 
disturbed  function  of  reality  by  an  archaic  surrogate  is 
supported  by  an  excellent  paradox  of  Spielrein's.  She 
says:  "  I  often  had  the  illusion  that  these  patients  might 


CONCEPTION  AND  THEORY  OF  LIBIDO      155 

be  simply  victims  of  a  folk  superstition."  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  patients  substitute  phantasies  for  reality,  phantasies 
similar  to  the  actually  incorrect  mental  products  of  the 
past,  which,  however,  were  once  the  view  of  reality.  As 
the  Zosimos  vision  shows,  the  old  superstitions  were  sym- 
bols ^^  which  permitted  transitions  to  the  most  remote 
territory.  This  must  have  been  very  expedient  for  cer- 
tain archaic  periods,  for  by  this  means  convenient  bridges 
were  offered  to  lead  a  partial  amount  of  libido  over  into 
the  mental  realm.  Evidently  Spielrein  thinks  of  a  similar 
biological  meaning  of  the  symbols  when  she  says :  *° 

"  Thus  a  symbol  seems  to  me  to  owe  its  origin  in  general  to 
the  tendency  of  a  complex  for  dissolution  in  the  common  totality 
of  thought.  .  .  .  The  complex  is  robbed  by  that  of  the  personal 
element.  .  .  .  This  tendency  towards  dissolution  (transforma- 
tion) of  every  individual  complex  is  the  motive  for  poetry,  paint- 
ing, for  every  sort  of  art." 

When  here  we  replace  the  formal  conception  "  com- 
plex "  by  the  conception  of  the  quantity  of  libido  (the 
total  effect  of  the  complex) ,  which,  from  the  standpoint  of 
the  libido  theory,  is  a  justified  measure,  then  does  Spiel- 
rein's  view  easily  agree  with  mine.  When  primitive  man 
understands  in  general  what  an  act  of  generation  is,  then, 
according  to  the  principle  of  the  path  of  least  resistance, 
he  never  can  arrive  at  the  idea  of  replacing  the  generative 
organs  by  a  sword-blade  or  a  shuttle ;  but  this  is  the  case 
with  certain  Indians,  who  explain  the  origin  of  mankind 
by  the  union  of  the  two  transference  symbols.  He  then 
must  be  compelled  to  devise  an  analogous  thing  in  order  to 
bring  a  manifest  sexual  interest  upon  an  asexual  expres- 


156       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

sion.  The  propelling  motive  of  this  transition  of  the 
immediate  sexual  libido  to  the  non-sexual  representation 
can,  in  my  opinion,  be  found  only  in  a  resistance  which 
opposes  primitive  sexuality. 

It  appears  as  if,  by  this  means  of  phantastic  analogy 
formation,  more  libido  would  gradually  become  desexual- 
ized,  because  increasingly  more  phantasy  correlates  were 
put  in  the  place  of  the  primitive  achievement  of  the  sexual 
libido.  With  this  an  enormous  broadening  of  the  world 
idea  was  gradually  developed  because  new  objects  were 
always  assimilated  as  sexual  symbols.  It  is  a  question 
whether  the  human  consciousness  has  not  been  brought 
to  its  present  state  entirely  or  in  great  part  in  this  man- 
ner. It  is  evident,  in  any  case,  that  an  important  signifi- 
cance in  the  development  of  the  human  mind  is  due  to 
the  impulse  towards  the  discovery  of  analogy.  We  must 
agree  thoroughly  with  Steinthal  when  he  says  that  an 
absolutely  overweening  importance  must  be  granted  to 
the  little  phrase  "  Gleich  wie  "  (even  as)  in  the  history 
of  the  development  of  thought.  It  is  easy  to  believe  that 
the  carryover  of  the  libido  to  a  phantastic  correlate  has 
led  primitive  man  to  a  number  of  the  most  important 
discoveries. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO. 

A  POSSIBLE  SOURCE  OF  PRIMITIVE  HUMAN 

DISCOVERIES 

In  the  following  pages  I  will  endeavor  to  picture  a 
concrete  example  of  the  transition  of  the  libido.  I  once 
treated  a  patient  who  suffered  from  a  depressive  cata- 
tonic condition.  The  case  was  one  of  only  a  slight  intro- 
version psychosis;  therefore,  the  existence  of  many 
hysterical  features  was  not  surprising.  In  the  beginning 
of  the  analytic  treatment,  while  telling  of  a  very  painful 
occurrence  she  fell  into  a  hysterical-dreamy  state,  in  which 
she  showed  all  signs  of  sexual  excitement.  For  obvious 
reasons  she  lost  the  knowledge  of  my  presence  during  this 
condition.  The  excitement  led  to  a  masturbative  act 
(frictio  femorum).  This  act  was  accompanied  by  a 
peculiar  gesture.  She  made  a  very  violent  rotary  motion 
with  the  forefinger  of  the  left  hand  on  the  left  temple, 
as  if  she  were  boring  a  hole  there.  Afterwards  there  was 
complete  amnesia  for  what  had  happened,  and  there  was 
nothing  to  be  learned  about  the  queer  gesture  with  her 
hand.  Although  this  act  can  easily  be  likened  to  a  boring 
into  the  mouth,  nose  or  ear,  now  transferred  to  the 
temple,  it  belongs  in  the  territory  of  infantile  ludus  sexu- 
alis  ^ — to  the  preliminary  exercise  preparatory  to  sexual 
activity.     Without  really  understanding  it,  this  gesture, 

157 


I 


158       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

nevertheless,  seemed  very  important  to  me.  Many  weeks 
later  I  had  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  the  patient's 
mother,  and  from  her  I  learned  that  her  daughter  had 
been  a  very  exceptional  child.  When  only  two  years  old 
she  would  sit  with  her  back  to  an  open  cupboard  door  for 
hours  and  rhythmically  beat  her  head  against  the  door  ^ — 
to  the  distraction  of  the  household.  A  little  later,  instead 
of  playing  as  other  children,  she  began  to  bore  a  hole  with 
her  finger  in  the  plaster  of  the  wall  of  the  house.  She 
did  this  with  little  turning  and  scraping  movements,  and 
kept  herself  busy  at  this  occupation  for  hours.  She  was 
a  complete  puzzle  to  her  parents.  From  her  fourth  year 
she  practised  onanism.  It  is  evident  that  in  this  early 
infantile  activity  the  preliminary  stage  of  the  later  trouble 
may  be  found.  The  especially  remarkable  features  in  this 
case  are,  first,  that  the  child  did  not  carry  out  the  action 
on  its  own  body,  and,  secondly,  the  assiduity  with  which 
it  carried  on  the  action.^  One  is  tempted  to  bring  these 
two  facts  into  a  causal  relationship  and  to  say,  because  the 
child  does  not  accomplish  this  action  on  her  own  body, 
perhaps  that  is  the  reason  of  the  assiduity,  for  by  boring 
into  the  wall  she  never  arrives  at  the  same  satisfaction  as 
if  she  executed  the  activity  onanistically  on  her  own  body. 
The  very  evident  onanistic  boring  of  the  patient  can  be 
traced  back  to  a  very  early  stage  of  childhood,  which  is 
prior  to  the  period  of  local  onanism.  That  time  is  still 
psychologically  very  obscure,  because  individual  reproduc- 
tions and  memories  are  lacking  to  a  great  extent,  the  same 
as  among  animals.  The  race  characteristics  (manner  of 
life)   predominate  during  the  entire  life  of  the  animal, 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       159 

whereas  among  men  the  individual  character  asserts  itself 
over  the  race  type.  Granting  the  correctness  of  this 
remark,  we  are  struck  with  the  apparently  wholly  incom- 
prehensible individual  activity  of  this  child  at  this  early 
age.  We  learn  from  her  later  life  history  that  her  de- 
velopment, which  is,  as  is  always  the  case,  intimately  inter- 
woven with  parallel  external  events,  has  led  to  that  mental 
disturbance  which  is  especially  well  known  on  account  of 
its  individuality  and  the  originality  of  its  productions,  i.  e. 
dementia  prEECOx.  The  peculiarity  of  this  disturbance,  as 
we  have  pointed  out  above,  depends  upon  the  predomi- 
nance of  the  phantastic  form  of  thought — of  the  infantile 
in  general.  From  this  type  of  thinking  proceed  all  those 
numerous  contacts  with  mythological  products,  and  that 
which  we  consider  as  original  and  wholly  individual  crea- 
tions are  very  often  creations  which  are  comparable  with 
nothing  but  those  of  antiquity.  I  believe  that  this  com- 
parison can  be  applied  to  all  formations  of  this  remark- 
able illness,  and  perhaps  also  to  this  special  symptom  of 
boring.  We  have  already  seen  that  the  onanistic  boring 
of  the  patient  dated  from  a  very  early  stage  of  childhood, 
that  is  to  say,  it  was  reproduced  from  that  period  of  the 
past.  The  sick  woman  fell  back  for  the  first  time  into 
the  early  onanism  only  after  she  had  been  married  many 
years,  and  following  the  death  of  her  child,  with  whom 
she  had  Identified  herself  through  an  overindulgent  love. 
When  the  child  died  the  still  healthy  mother  was  over- 
come by  early  infantile  symptoms  in  the  form  of  scarcely 
concealed  fits  of  masturbation,  which  were  associated  with 
this  very  act  of  boring.    As  already  observed,  the  primary 


i6o       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

boring  appeared  at  a  time  which  preceded  the  infantile 
onanism  localized  in  the  genitals.  This  fact  is  of  signifi- 
cance in  so  far  as  this  boring  differs  thereby  from  a  similar 
later  practice  which  appeared  after  the  genital  onanism. 
The  later  bad  habits  represent,  as  a  rule,  a  substitution 
for  repressed  genital  masturbation,  or  for  an  attempt  in 
this  direction.  As  such  these  habits  (finger-sucking,  biting 
the  nails,  picking  at  things,  boring  into  the  ears  and  nose, 
etc.)  may  persist  far  into  adult  life  as  regular  symptoms 
of  a  repressed  amount  of  libido. 

As  has  already  been  shown  above,  the  libido  in  youth- 
ful individuals  at  first  manifests  itself  in  the  nutritional 
zone,  when  food  is  taken  in  the  act  of  suckling  with 
rhythmic  movements  and  with  every  sign  of  satisfaction. 
With  the  growth  of  the  individual  and  the  development 
of  his  organs  the  libido  creates  for  itself  new  avenues  to 
supply  its  need  of  activity  and  satisfaction.  The  primary 
model  of  rhythmic  activity,  producing  pleasure  and  satis- 
faction, must  now  be  transferred  to  the  zone  of  other 
functions,  with  sexuality  as  its  final  goal.  A  considerable 
part  of  the  "  hunger  libido "  is  transferred  into  the 
"  sexual  libido."  This  transition  does  not  take  place  sud- 
denly at  the  time  of  puberty,  as  is  generally  supposed,  but 
very  gradually  in  the  course  of  the  greater  part  of  child- 
hood. The  libido  can  free  itself  only  with  difficulty  and 
very  slowly  from  that  which  is  peculiar  to  the  function  of 
nutrition,  in  order  to  enter  into  the  peculiarity  of  the 
sexual  function.  Two  periods  are  to  be  distinguished  in 
this  state  of  transition,  so  far  as  I  can  judge — the  epoch  of 
suckling  and  the  epoch  of  the  displaced  rhythmic  activity. 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       i6i 

Suckling  still  belongs  to  the  function  of  nutrition,  but 
passes  beyond  it,  however,  in  that  it  is  no  longer  the  func- 
tion of  nutrition,  but  rhythmic  activity,  with  pleasure  and 
satisfaction  as  a  goal,  without  the  taking  of  nourishment. 
Here  the  hand  enters  as  an  auxiliary  organ.  In  the 
period  of  the  displaced  rhythmic  activity  the  hand  appears 
still  more  clearly  as  an  auxiliary  organ;  the  gaining  of 
pleasure  leaves  the  mouth  zone  and  turns  to  other  regions. 
The  possibilities  are  now  many.  As  a  rule,  other  openings 
of  the  body  become  the  objects  of  the  libido  interest; 
then  the  skin,  and  special  portions  of  that.  The  activity 
expressed  in  these  parts,  which  can  appear  as  rubbing, 
boring,  picking,  and  so  on,  follows  a  certain  rhythm  and 
serves  to  produce  pleasure.  After  longer  or  shorter  tarry- 
ings  of  the  libido  at  these  stations,  it  passes  onward  until 
it  reaches  the  sexual  zone,  and  there,  for  the  first  time, 
can  be  occasion  for  the  beginning  of  onanistic  attempts. 
In  its  migration  the  libido  takes  more  than  a  little  of  the 
function  of  nutrition  with  it  into  the  sexual  zone,  which 
readily  accounts  for  the  numerous  and  innate  correla- 
tions between  the  functions  of  nutrition  and  sexuality.  If, 
after  the  occupation  of  the  sexual  zone,  an  obstacle  arises 
against  the  present  form  of  application  of  the  libido,  then 
there  occurs,  according  to  the  well-known  laws,  a  regres- 
sion to  the  nearest  station  lying  behind,  to  the  two  above- 
mentioned  periods.  It  is  now  of  special  importance  that 
the  epoch  of  the  displaced  rhythmic  activity  coincides  in 
a  general  way  with  the  time  of  the  development  of  the 
mind  and  of  speech.  I  might  designate  the  period  from 
birth  until  the  occupation  of  the  sexual  zone  as  the  pre- 


i62        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

sexual  stage  of  development.  This  generally  occurs  be- 
tween the  third  and  fifth  year,  and  is  comparable  to  the 
chrysalis  stage  in  butterflies.  It  is  distinguished  by  the 
irregular  commingling  of  the  elements  of  nutrition  and  of 
sexual  functions.  Certain  regressions  follow  directly  back 
to  the  presexual  stage,  and,  judging  from  my  experience, 
this  seems  to  be  the  rule  in  the  regression  of  dementia 
praecox.  I  will  give  two  brief  examples.  One  case  con- 
cerns a  young  girl  who  developed  a  catatonic  state  during 
her  engagement.  When  she  saw  me  for  the  first  time,  she 
came  up  suddenly,  embraced  me,  and  said,  "  Papa,  give 
me  something  to  eat."  The  other  case  concerns  a  young 
maidservant  who  complained  that  people  pursued  her 
with  electricity  and  that  this  caused  a  queer  feeling  in  her 
genitals,  "  as  if  it  ate  and  drank  down  there." 

These  regressive  phenomena  show  that  even  from  the 
distance  of  the  modern  mind  those  early  stages  of  the 
libido  can  be  regressively  reached.  One  may  assume, 
therefore,  that  in  the  earliest  states  of  human  develop- 
ment this  road  was  much  more  easily  travelled  than  it  is 
to-day.  It  becomes  then  a  matter  of  great  interest  to 
learn  whether  traces  of  this  have  been  preserved  in 
history. 

We  owe  our  knowledge  of  the  ethnologic  phantasy  of 
boring  to  the  valuable  work  of  Abraham,*  who  also  refers 
us  to  the  writings  of  Adalbert  Kuhn.^  Through  this  in- 
vestigation we  learn  that  Prometheus,  the  fire-bringer, 
may  be  a  brother  of  the  Hindoo  Pramantha,  that  is  to 
say,  of  the  masculine  fire-rubbing  piece  of  wood.  The 
Hindoo  fire-bringer  is  called  Matarigvan,  and  the  activity 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       163 

of  the  fire  preparation  is  always  designated  in  the  hieratic 
text  by  the  verb  "  manthami,"  **  which  means  shaking, 
rubbing,  bringing  forth  by  rubbing.  Kuhn  has  put  this 
verb  in  connection  with  the  Greek  j-iavBayoo^  which  means 
"  to  learn,"  and  has  explained  this  conceptual  relation- 
ship.^ The  "  tertium  comparationis  "  might  lie  in  the 
rhythm,  the  movement  to  and  fro  in  the  mind.  According 
to  Kuhn,  the  root  "  manth  "  or  "math"  must  be  traced 
from  fxa^'davoo  [pidOrjpia,  /.laOfjffi?)  to  7rpo-j^?]6io/^ai  to 
IlpoiujjOev;*  who  is  the  Greek  fire-robber.  Through 
an  unauthorized  Sanskrit  word  "  pramathyus,"  which 
comes  by  way  of  "  pramantha,"  and  which  possesses 
the  double  meaning  of  "  Rubber "  and  "  Robber," 
the  transition  to  Prometheus  was  effected.  With  that, 
however,  the  prefix  "  pra  "  caused  special  difficulty, 
so  that  the  whole  derivation  was  doubted  by  a  series 
of  authors,  and  was  held,  in  part,  as  erroneous.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  was  pointed  out  that  as  the  Thuric  Zeus 
bore  the  especially  interesting  cognomen  Ilpo-fxayOsv?, 
thus  npo-/.i7]6€v?  might  not  be  an  original  Indo-Germanic 
stem  word  that  was  related  to  the  Sanskrit  "  pramantha," 
but  might  represent  only  a  cognomen.  This  interpreta- 
tion is  supported  by  a  gloss  of  Hesychius,  'Ida?:  6  tcdv 
Tiravoav  Krjpv^  npojxrf6sv?.\  Another  gloss  of  Hesychius 
explains  iOaivonai  {iaivcoi)  as  Ospfzaivo^ai,  through  which 
'I6d;  attains  the  meaning  of  "  the  flaming  one,"  analogous 
to  Ai'Ocov  or   ^Xsyva? .^    The  relation  of  Prometheus  to 

*I   learn    (that  which  is  learned,  knowledge;  the  act  of  learning),  to 
take  thought  beforehand,  to  Prometheus    (forethought). 
t  Prometheus,  the  herald  of  the  Titans. 


i64       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

pramantha  could  scarcely  be  so  direct  as  Kuhn  conjec- 
tures. The  question  of  an  Indirect  relation  is  not  decided 
with  that.  Above  all,  npofxtjOevi  is  of  great  significance 
as  a  surname  for  '/<?a?,  since  the  "  flaming  one  "  is  the 
"  fore-thinker."  (Pramati  =  precaution  is  also  an  attri- 
bute of  Agni,  although  pramati  Is  of  another  derivation.) 
Prometheus,  however,  belongs  to  the  line  of  Phlegians 
which  was  placed  by  Kuhn  in  uncontested  relationship  to 
the  Indian  priest  family  of  Bhrgu.^  The  Bhrgu  are  like 
Matarigvan  (the  "one  swelling  in  the  mother"),  also 
fire-brlngers.  Kuhn  quotes  a  passage,  according  to  which 
Bhrgu  also  arises  from  the  flame  like  Agni.  ("  In  the 
flame  Bhrgu  originated.  Bhrgu  roasted,  but  did  not 
burn.")  This  view  leads  to  a  root  related  to  Bhrgu, 
that  is  to  say,  to  the  Sanskrit  bhrdy  =  to  light,  Latin 
fiilgeo  and  Greek  qjXiyoo  (Sanskrit  bhargas  =  splendor, 
Latin  fulgur).  Bhrgu  appears,  therefore,  as  "the  shin- 
ing one."  ^Xsyva^  means  a  certain  species  of  eagle,  on 
account  of  its  burnished  gold  color.  The  connection 
with  qj\sy£Lv,  which  signifies  "  to  burn,"  is  clear.  The 
Phlegians  are  also  the  fire  eagles."  Prometheus  also  be- 
longs to  the  Phlegians.  The  path  from  Pramantha  to 
Prometheus  passes  not  through  the  word,  but  through  the 
idea,  and,  therefore,  we  should  adopt  this  same  meaning 
for  Prometheus  as  that  which  Pramantha  attains  from  the 
Hindoo  fire  symbolism." 

The  Pramantha,  as  the  tool  of  Manthana  (the  fire 
sacrifice),  is  considered  purely  sexual  in  the  Hindoo;  the 
Pramantha  as  phallus,  or  man;  the  bored  wood  under- 
neath as  vulva,  or  woman. '^     The  resulting  fire  is  the 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       165 

child,  the  divine  son  Agni.  The  two  pieces  of  wood  are 
called  in  the  cult  Pururavas  and  Urvagi,  and  were  thought 
of  personified  as  man  and  woman.  The  fire  was  born 
from  the  genitals  of  the  woman."  An  especially  inter- 
esting representation  of  fire  production,  as  a  religious 
ceremony  (manthana) ,  is  given  by  Weber:  " 

"  A  certain  sacrificial  fire  was  lit  by  the  rubbing  together  of 
two  sticks ;  one  piece  of  wood  is  taken  up  with  the  words :  '  Thou 
art  the  birthplace  of  the  fire,'  and  two  blades  of  grass  are  placed 
upon  it;  'Ye  are  the  two  testicles,'  to  the  '  adhararani '  (the 
underlying  wood)  :  '  Thou  art  Urvagi ';  then  the  utararani  (that 
which  is  placed  on  top)  is  anointed  with  butter.  '  Thou  art 
Power.'  This  is  then  placed  on  the  adhararani,  '  Thou  art 
Pururavas  '  and  both  are  rubbed  three  times,  *  I  rub  thee  with 
the  Gayatrimetrum :  I  rub  thee  with  the  Trishtubhmetrum :  I  rub 
thee  with  the  Jagatimetrum.'  " 

The  sexual  symbolism  of  this  fire  production  is  unmis- 
takable. We  see  here  also  the  rhythm,  the  metre  in  its 
original  place  as  sexual  rhythm,  rising  above  the  mating 
call  into  music.  A  song  of  the  Rigveda  ^^  conveys  the 
same  interpretation  and  symbolism  : 

"  Here  is  the  gear  for  function,  here  tinder  made  ready  for  the 

spark. 
Bring  thou  the  matron :  ^'  we  will  rub  Agni  in  ancient  fashion 

forth. 
In  the  two  fire-sticks  Jatavedas  lieth,  even  as  the  well-formed 

germ  in  pregnant  women  ; 
Agni  who  day  by  day  must  be  exalted  by  men  who  watch  and 

worship  with  oblations; 
Lay  this  with  care  on  that  which  lies  extended:  straight  hath 

she  borne  the  steer  when  made  prolific. 


i66       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

With  his   red   pillar — radiant  in   his  splendor — in   our   skilled 
task  is  born  the  son  of  Ila."  " — Book  III.  xxix:  1-3. 

Side  by  side  with  the  unequivocal  coitus  symbolism  we 
see  that  the  Pramantha  is  also  Agni,  the  created  son. 
The  Phallus  is  the  son,  or  the  son  is  the  Phallus.  There- 
fore, Agni  in  the  Vedic  mythology  has  the  threefold  char- 
acter. With  this  we  are  once  more  connected  with  the 
above-mentioned  Cabiric  Father-Son-Cult.  In  the  modern 
German  language  we  have  preserved  echoes  of  the  primi- 
tive symbols.  A  boy  is  designated  as  "  bengel  "  (short, 
thick  piece  of  wood).  In  Hessian  as  "stift"  or  "  bol- 
zen  "  (arrow,^*  wooden  peg  or  stump).  The  Artemisia 
Abrotanum,  which  is  called  in  German  "  Stabwurz " 
(stick  root),  is  called  in  English  "Boy's  Love."  (The 
vulgar  designation  of  the  penis  as  "  boy  "  was  remarked 
even  by  Grimm  and  others.)  The  ceremonial  production 
of  fire  was  retained  in  Europe  as  late  as  the  nineteenth 
century  as  a  superstitious  custom.  Kuhn  mentions  such  a 
case  even  in  the  year  1828,  which  occurred  In  Germany. 
The  solemn,  magic  ceremony  was  called  the  "  Nodfyr  " 
— "  The  fire  of  need  "  ^^ — and  the  charm  was  chiefly  used 
against  cattle  epidemics.  Kuhn  cites  from  the  chronicle 
of  Lanercost  of  the  year  1268  an  especially  noteworthy 
case  of  the  "  Nodfyr," ""  the  ceremonies  of  which  plainly 
reveal  the  fundamental  phallic  meaning: 

"  Pro  fidei  divins  integritate  servanda  recolat  lector,  quod  cum 
hoc  anno  in  Laodonia  pestis  grassaretur  in  pecudes  armenti,  quam 
vocant  usetati  Lungessouht,  quidam  bestiales,  habitu  claustrales 
non  animo,  docebant  idiotas  patriae  ignem  confrictione  de  lignis 
educere  et  simulacrum  Priapi  statuere,  et  per  haec  bestiis  succur- 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       167 

rere.  Quod  cum  unus  laicus  Cisterciensis  apud  Fentone  fecisset 
ante  atrium  aulas,  ac  intinctis  testiculis  canis  in  aquam  benedictam 
super  animalis  sparsisset,  etc."  * 

These  examples,  which  allow  us  to  recognize  a  clear 
sexual  symbolism  in  the  generation  of  fire,  prove,  there- 
fore, since  they  originate  from  different  times  and  differ- 
ent peoples,  the  existence  of  a  universal  tendency  to  credit 
to  fire  production  not  only  a  magical  but  also  a  sexual 
significance.  This  ceremonial  or  magic  repetition  of  this 
very  ancient,  long-outlived  observance  shows  how  insist- 
ently the  human  mind  clings  to  the  old  forms,  and  how 
deeply  rooted  is  this  very  ancient  reminiscence  of  fire 
boring.  One  might  almost  be  inclined  to  see  in  the  sexual 
symbolism  of  fire  production  a  relatively  late  addition  to 
the  priestly  lore.  This  may,  indeed,  be  true  for  the  cere- 
monial elaboration  of  the  fire  mysteries,  but  whether 
originally  the  generation  of  fire  was  in  general  a  sexual 
action,  that  is  to  say,  a  "  coitus-play,"  is  still  a  ques- 
tion. That  similar  things  occur  among  very  primitive 
people  we  learn  from  the  Australian  tribe  of  the  Wat- 
schandies,-^  who  in  the  spring  perform  the  following 
magic  ceremonies  of  fertilization:  They  dig  a  hole  in 
the  ground,  so  formed  and  surrounded  with  bushes  as  to 

*  Instead  of  preserving  the  divine  faith  in  its  purity,  the  reader  will 
call  to  mind  the  fact  that  in  this  year  when  the  plague,  usually  called 
Lung  sickness,  attacked  the  herds  of  cattle  in  Laodonia,  certain  bestial  men, 
monks  in  dress  but  not  in  spirit,  taught  the  ignorant  people  of  their  country 
to  make  fire  by  rubbing  wood  together  and  to  set  up  a  statue  of  Priapus,  and 
by  that  method  to  succor  the  cattle.  After  a  Cistercian  lay  brother  had 
done  this  near  Fentone,  in  front  of  the  entrance  of  the  "  Court,"  he 
sprinkled  the  animals  with  holy  water  and  with  the  preserved  testicles  of 
a  dog,  etc. 


i68       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

counterfeit  a  woman's  genitals.  They  dance  the  night 
long  around  this  hole;  in  connection  with  this  they  hold 
spears  in  front  of  themselves  in  a  manner  to  recall  the 
penis  in  erection.  They  dance  around  the  hole  and  thrust 
their  spears  into  the  ditch,  while  they  cry  to  it,  "  Pulli 
nira,  pulli  nira,  wataka !  "  (non  fossa,  non  fossa,  sed 
cunnus  !)  Such  obscene  dances  appear  among  other  primi- 
tive races  as  well.^^ 

In  this  spring  incantation  are  contained  the  elements 
of  the  coitus  play."  This  play  is  nothing  but  a  coitus 
game,  that  is  to  say,  originally  this  play  was  simply  a 
coitus  in  the  form  of  sacramental  mating,  which  for  a 
long  time  was  a  mysterious  element  among  certain  cults, 
and  reappeared  in  sects. ^*  In  the  ceremonies  of  Zinzen- 
dorf's  followers  echoes  of  the  coitus  sacrament  may  be 
recognized;  also  in  other  sects. 

One  can  easily  think  that  just  as  the  above-mentioned 
Australian  bushmen  perform  the  coitus  play  in  this  man- 
ner the  same  performance  could  be  enacted  in  another 
manner,  and,  indeed,  in  the  form  of  fire  production.  In- 
stead of  through  two  selected  human  beings,  the  coitus 
was  represented  by  two  substitutes,  by  Pururavas  and 
Urvaci,  by  Phallus  and  Vulva,  by  borer  and  opening. 
Just  as  the  primitive  thought  behind  other  customs  is 
really  the  sacramental  coition  so  here  the  primal  tendency 
is  really  the  act  itself.  For  the  act  of  fertilization  is  the 
climax — the  true  festival  of  life,  and  well  worthy  to  be- 
come the  nucleus  of  a  religious  mystery.  If  we  are  justi- 
fied In  concluding  that  the  symbolism  of  the  hole  in  the 
earth  used  by  the  Watschandies  for  the  fertilization  of 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       169 

the  earth  takes  the  place  of  the  coitus,  then  the  genera- 
tion of  fire  could  be  considered  in  the  same  way  as  a 
substitute  for  coitus;  and,  indeed,  it  might  be  further  con- 
cluded as  a  consequence  of  this  reasoning  that  the  inven- 
tion of  fire-making  is  also  due  to  the  need  of  supplying  a 
symbol  for  the  sexual  act.^^ 

Let  us  return,  for  a  moment,  to  the  infantile  symptom 
of  boring.  Let  us  imagine  a  strong  adult  man  carrying 
on  the  boring  with  two  pieces  of  wood  with  the  same  per- 
severance and  the  energy  corresponding  to  that  of  this 
child.  He  may  very  easily  create  fire  by  this  play.  But 
of  greatest  significance  In  this  work  is  the  rhythm. ^^  This 
hypothesis  seems  to  me  psychologically  possible,  although 
it  should  not  be  said  with  this  that  only  in  this  way  could 
the  discovery  of  fire  occur.  It  can  result  just  as  well  by 
the  striking  together  of  flints.  It  Is  scarcely  possible  that 
fire  was  created  in  only  one  way.  All  I  want  to  establish 
here  is  merely  the  psychologic  process,  the  symbolic  indi- 
cations of  which  point  to  the  possibility  that  in  such  a 
way  was  fire  invented  or  prepared. 

The  existence  of  the  primitive  coitus  play  or  rite  seems 
to  me  sufficiently  proven.  The  only  thing  that  is  obscure 
is  the  energy  and  emphasis  of  the  ritual  play.  It  is  well 
known  that  those  primitive  rites  were  often  of  very  bloody 
seriousness,  and  were  performed  with  an  extraordinary 
display  of  energy,  which  appears  as  a  great  contrast  to 
the  well-known  indolence  of  primitive  humanity.  There- 
fore, the  ritual  activity  entirely  loses  the  character  of  play, 
and  wins  that  of  purposeful  effort.  If  certain  Negro 
races  can  dance  the  whole  night  long  to  three  tones  in 


I70       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

the  most  monotonous  manner,  then,  according  to  our  idea, 
there  is  in  this  an  absolute  lack  of  the  character  of  play 
pastime;  it  approaches  nearer  to  exercise.  There  seems 
to  exist  a  sort  of  compulsion  to  transfer  the  libido  into 
such  ritual  activity.  If  the  basis  of  the  ritual  activity  is 
the  sexual  act,  we  may  assume  that  it  is  really  the  under- 
lying thought  and  object  of  the  exercise.  Under  these 
circumstances,  the  question  arises  why  the  primitive  man 
endeavors  to  represent  the  sexual  act  symbolically  and 
with  effort,  or,  if  this  wording  appears  to  be  too  hypo- 
thetical, why  does  he  exert  energy  to  such  a  degree  only 
to  accomplish  practically  useless  things,  which  apparently 
do  not  especially  amuse  him?  "  It  may  be  assumed  that 
the  sexual  act  is  more  desirable  to  primitive  man  than 
such  absurd  and,  moreover,  fatiguing  exercises.  It  is 
hardly  possible  but  that  a  certain  compulsion  conducts  the 
energy  away  from  the  original  object  and  real  purpose, 
inducing  the  production  of  surrogates.  The  existence  of 
a  phallic  or  orgiastic  cult  does  not  indicate  eo  ipso  a  par- 
ticularly lascivious  life  any  more  than  the  ascetic  sym- 
bolism of  Christianity  means  an  especially  moral  life. 
One  honors  that  which  one  does  not  possess  or  that  which 
one  is  not.  This  compulsion,  to  speak  in  the  nomenclature 
formulated  above,  removes  a  certain  amount  of  libido 
from  the  real  sexual  activity,  and  creates  a  symbolic  and 
practically  valid  substitute  for  what  Is  lost.  This  psy- 
chology is  confirmed  by  the  aboye-mentioned  Watschandie 
ceremony;  during  the  entire  ceremony  none  of  the  men 
may  look  at  a  woman.  This  detail  again  informs  us 
from  whence  the  libido  is  to  be  diverted.     But  this  gives 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       171 

rise  to  the  pressing  question,  Whence  comes  this  compul- 
sion ?  We  have  already  suggested  above  that  the  primi- 
tive sexuahty  encounters  a  resistance  which  leads  to  a 
side-tracking  of  the  libido  on  to  substitution  actions 
(analog}^,  symbolism,  etc.).  It  is  unthinkable  that  it  is  a 
question  of  any  outer  opposition  whatsoever,  or  of  a  real 
obstacle,  since  it  occurs  to  no  savage  to  catch  his  elusive 
quarry  with  ritual  charms;  but  it  is  a  question  of  an  in- 
ternal resistance;  will  opposes  will;  libido  opposes  libido, 
since  a  psychologic  resistance  as  an  energic  phenomenon 
corresponds  to  a  certain  amount  of  libido.  The  psycho- 
logic compulsion  for  the  transformation  of  the  libido  is 
based  on  an  original  division  of  the  will.  I  will  return 
to  this  primal  splitting  of  the  libido  in  another  place. 
Here  let  us  concern  ourselves  only  with  the  problem  of 
the  transition  of  the  Hbido.  The  transition  takes  place, 
as  has  been  repeatedly  suggested  by  means  of  shifting  to 
an  analogy.  The  libido  is  taken  away  from  its  proper 
place  and  transferred  to  another  substratum. 

The  resistance  against  sexuality  aims,  therefore,  at 
preventing  the  sexual  act;  it  also  seeks  to  crowd  the  libido 
away  from  the  sexual  function.  We  see,  for  example,  in 
hysteria,  how  the  specific  repression  blocks  the  real  path 
of  transference;  therefore,  the  libido  is  obliged  to  take 
another  path,  and  that  an  earlier  one,  namely,  the  in- 
cestuous road  which  ultimately  leads  to  the  parents.  Let 
us  speak,  however,  of  the  incest  prohibition,  which  hin- 
dered the  very  first  sexual  transference.  Then  the  situa- 
tion changes  in  so  far  that  no  earlier  way  of  transference 
is  left,  except  that  of  the  presexual  stage  of  development, 


172        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

where  the  hbldo  was  still  partly  in  the  function  of  nutri- 
tion. By  a  regression  to  the  presexual  material  the  libido 
becomes  quasi-desexualized.  But  as  the  incest  prohibition 
signifies  only  a  temporary  and  conditional  restriction  of 
the  sexuality,  thus  only  that  part  of  the  libido  which  is 
best  designated  as  the  incestuous  component  is  now 
pushed  back  to  the  presexual  stage.  The  repression, 
therefore,  concerns  only  that  part  of  the  sexual  libido 
which  wishes  to  fix  itself  permanently  upon  the  parents. 
The  sexual  libido  is  only  withdrawn  from  the  incestuous 
component,  repressed  upon  the  presexual  stage,  and 
there,  if  the  operation  is  successful,  desexualized,  by 
which  this  amount  of  libido  is  prepared  for  an  asexual 
application.  However,  it  is  to  be  assumed  that  this  opera- 
tion is  accomplished  only  with  difficulty,  because  the 
incestuous  libido,  so  to  speak,  must  be  artificially  sepa- 
rated from  the  sexual  libido,  with  which,  for  ages,  through 
the  whole  animal  kingdom,  it  was  indistinguishably  united. 
The  regression  of  the  incestuous  component  must,  there- 
fore, take  place,  not  only  with  great  difficulty,  but  also 
carry  with  it  into  the  presexual  stage  a  considerable 
sexual  character.  The  consequence  of  this  is  that  the  re- 
sulting phenomena,  although  stamped  with  the  character 
of  the  sexual  act,  are,  nevertheless,  not  really  sexual  acts 
de  facto;  they  are  derived  from  the  presexual  stage,  and 
are  maintained  by  the  repressed  sexual  libido,  therefore 
possess  a  double  significance.  Thus  the  fire  boring  is  a 
coitus  (and,  to  be  sure,  an  incestuous  one),  but  a  desexu- 
alized one,  which  has  lost  its  immediate  sexual  worth,  and 
is,  therefore,  indirectly  useful  to  the  propagation  of  the 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       173 

species.  The  presexual  stage  Is  characterized  by  count- 
less possibilities  of  application,  because  the  libido  has  not 
yet  formed  definite  localizations.  It  therefore  appears 
intelligible  that  an  amount  of  libido  which  reaches  this 
stage  through  regression  is  confronted  with  manifold  pos- 
sibilities of  application.  Above  all,  it  is  met  with  the 
possibility  of  a  purely  onanistic  activity.  But  as  the  mat- 
ter in  question  in  the  regressive  component  of  libido  is 
sexual  libido,  the  ultimate  object  of  which  Is  propagation, 
therefore  it  goes  to  the  external  object  (Parents)  ;  it  will 
also  Introvert  with  this  destination  as  its  essential  char- 
acter. The  result,  therefore,  is  that  the  purely  onanistic 
activity  turns  out  to  be  insufficient,  and  another  object 
must  be  sought  for,  which  takes  the  place  of  the  incest 
object.  The  nurturing  mother  earth  represents  the  ideal 
example  of  such  an  object.  The  psychology  of  the  pre- 
sexual stage  contributes  the  nutrition  component;  the 
sexual  libido  the  coitus  Idea.  From  this  the  ancient  sym- 
bols of  agriculture  arise.  In  the  work  of  agriculture 
hunger  and  incest  intermingle.  The  ancient  cults  of 
mother  earth  and  all  the  superstitions  founded  thereon 
saw  in  the  cultivation  of  the  earth  the  fertilization  of  the 
mother.  The  aim  of  the  action  is  desexualized,  however, 
for  it  Is  the  fruit  of  the  field  and  the  nourishment  con- 
tained therein.  The  regression  resulting  from  the  incest 
prohibition  leads,  in  this  case,  to  the  new  valuation  of  the 
mother;  this  time,  however,  not  as  a  sexual  object,  but 
as  a  nourlsher. 

The  discovery  of  fire  seems  to  be  due  to  a  very  similar 
regression  to  the  pre-sexual  stage,  more  particularly  to  the 


174       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

nearest  stage  of  the  displaced  rhythmic  manifestation. 
The  libido,  Introverted  from  the  incest  prohibition  (with 
the  more  detailed  designation  of  the  motor  components 
of  coitus),  when  it  reaches  the  presexual  stage,  meets 
the  related  infantile  boring,  to  which  it  now  gives,  m  ac- 
cordance with  its  realistic  destination,  an  actual  material. 
(Therefore  the  material  is  fittingly  called  "  materia," 
as  the  object  Is  the  mother  as  above.)  As  I  sought  to 
show  above,  the  action  of  the  Infantile  boring  requires 
only  the  strength  and  perseverance  of  an  adult  man  and 
suitable  "  material  "  in  order  to  generate  fire.  If  this  is 
so,  it  may  be  expected  that  analogous  to  our  foregoing 
case  of  onanistic  boring  the  generation  of  fire  originally 
occurred  as  such  an  act  of  quasi-onanistic  activity,  ob- 
jectively expressed.  The  demonstration  of  this  can  never 
be  actually  furnished,  but  it  Is  thinkable  that  somewhere 
traces  of  this  original  onanistic  preliminary  exercise  of 
fire  production  have  been  preserved.  I  have  succeeded  In 
finding  a  passage  in  a  very  old  monument  of  Hindoo 
literature  which  contains  this  transition  of  the  sexual 
libido  through  the  onanistic  phase  in  the  preparation  of 
fire.  This  passage  is  found  In  Brihadaranyaka-Upani- 
shad :  "^ 

"  In  truth,  he  (Atman)^^  was  as  large  as  a  woman  and  a  man, 
when  they  embrace  each  other.  This,  his  own  self,  he  divided 
into  two  parts,  out  of  which  husband  and  wife  were  formed.^" 
With  her,  he  copulated;  from  this  humanity  sprang.  She,  how- 
ever, pondered :  '  How  may  he  unite  with  me  after  he  has  created 
me  from  himself?  Now  I  shall  hide! '  Then  she  became  a  cow; 
he,  however,  became  a  bull  and  mated  with  her.  From  that 
sprang  the  horned  cattle.    Then  she  became  a  mare;  he,  however, 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       175 

became  a  stallion;  she  became  a  she-ass;  he,  an  ass,  and  mated  with 
her.  From  these  sprang  the  whole-hoofed  animals.  She  became 
a  goat;  he  became  a  buck;  she  became  an  ewe;  he  became  a  ram, 
and  mated  with  her.  Thus  were  created  goats  and  sheep.  Thus 
it  happened  that  all  that  mates,  even  down  to  the  ants,  he  created 
— then  he  perceived :  '  Truly  I  myself  am  Creation,  for  I  have 
created  the  whole  world!  '  Thereupon  he  rubbed  his  hands  (held 
before  the  mouth)  so  that  he  brought  forth  fire  from  his  mouth, 
as  from  the  mother  womb,  and  from  his  hands." 

We  meet  here  a  peculiar  myth  of  creation  which  re- 
quires a  psychologic  interpretation.  In  the  beginning  the 
libido  was  undifferentiated  and  bisexual;  ^^  this  was  fol- 
lowed by  differentiation  into  a  male  and  a  female  com- 
ponent. From  then  on  man  knows  what  he  is.  Now 
follows  a  gap  in  the  coherence  of  the  thought  where 
belongs  that  very  resistance  which  we  have  postulated 
above  for  the  explanation  of  the  urge  for  sublimation. 
Next  follows  the  onanistic  act  of  rubbing  or  boring  (here 
finger-sucking)  transferred  from  the  sexual  zone,  from 
which  proceeds  the  production  of  fire.'^  The  libido  here 
leaves  its  characteristic  manifestation  as  sexual  function 
and  regresses  to  the  presexual  stage,  where,  in  conformity 
with  the  above  explanation,  it  occupies  one  of  the  pre- 
liminary stages  of  sexuality,  thereby  producing.  In  the 
view  expressed  In  the  Upanishad,  the  first  human  art, 
and  from  there,  as  suggested  by  Kuhn's  Idea  of  the  root 
"  manth,"  perhaps  the  higher  Intellectual  activity  In  gen- 
eral. This  course  of  development  is  not  strange  to  the 
psychiatrist,  for  It  Is  a  well-known  psychopathologlcal  fact 
that  onanism  and  excessive  activity  of  phantasy  are  very 
closely  related.      (The  sexualizlng-autonomlzing  of  the 


176       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

mind  through  autoerotism  ^^  is  so  familiar  a  fact  that 
examples  of  that  are  superfluous.)  The  course  of  the 
libido,  as  we  may  conclude  from  these  studies,  originally 
proceeded  in  a  similar  manner  as  in  the  child,  only  in  a 
reversed  sequence.  The  sexual  act  was  pushed  out  of  its 
proper  zone  and  was  transferred  into  the  analogous 
mouth  zone  ^* — the  mouth  receiving  the  significance  of  the 
female  genitals;  the  hand  and  the  fingers,  respectively,  re- 
ceiving the  phallic  meaning.^^  In  this  manner  the  regress- 
ively  reoccupied  activity  of  the  presexual  stage  is  invested 
with  the  sexual  significance,  which,  indeed,  it  already 
possessed,  in  part,  before,  but  in  a  wholly  different  sense. 
Certain  functions  of  the  presexual  stage  are  found  to  be 
permanently  suitable,  and,  therefore,  are  retained  later 
on  as  sexual  functions.  Thus,  for  example,  the  mouth 
zone  Is  retained  as  of  erotic  importance,  meaning  that  its 
valuation  is  permanently  fixed.  Concerning  the  mouth, 
we  know  that  it  also  has  a  sexual  meaning  among  animals, 
inasmuch  as,  for  example,  stallions  bite  mares  in  the  sexual 
act;  also,  cats,  cocks,  etc.  A  second  significance  of  the 
mouth  is  as  an  Instrument  of  speech.  It  serves  essentially 
In  the  production  of  the  mating  call,  which  mostly  repre- 
sents the  developed  tones  of  the  animal  kingdom.  As  to 
the  hand,  we  know  that  It  has  the  important  significance 
of  the  contrectatlon  organ  (for  example,  among  frogs). 
The  frequent  erotic  use  of  the  hand  among  monkeys  Is 
well  known.  If  there  exists  a  resistance  against  the  real 
sexuality,  then  the  accumulated  libido  is  most  likely  to 
cause  a  hyperfunction  of  those  collaterals  which  are  most 
adapted  to  compensate  for  the  resistance,  that  is  to  say. 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       177 

the  nearest  functions  which  serve  for  the  introduction  of 
the  act;^^  on  one  side  the  function  of  the  hand,  on  the 
other  that  of  the  mouth.  The  sexual  act,  however,  against 
which  the  opposition  is  directed  is  replaced  by  a  similar 
act  of  the  presexual  stage,  the  classic  case  being  either 
finger-sucking  or  boring.  Just  as  among  apes  the  foot 
can  on  occasions  take  the  place  of  the  hand,  so  the  child 
is  often  uncertain  in  the  choice  of  the  object  to  suck,  and 
puts  the  big  toe  in  the  mouth  instead  of  the  finger.  This 
last  movement  belongs  to  a  Hindoo  rite,  only  the  big  toe 
was  not  put  in  the  mouth,  but  held  against  the  eye." 
Through  the  sexual  significance  of  the  hand  and  mouth 
these  organs,  which  in  the  presexual  stage  served  to  ob- 
tain pleasure,  are  invested  with  a  procreating  power 
which  is  identical  with  the  above-mentioned  destination, 
which  aims  at  the  external  object,  because  it  concerns  the 
sexual  or  creating  libido.  When,  through  the  actual 
preparation  of  fire,  the  sexual  character  of  the  libido  em- 
ployed in  that  is  fulfilled,  then  the  mouth  zone  remains 
without  adequate  expression;  only  the  hand  has  now 
reached  its  real,  purely  human  goal  in  its  first  art. 

The  mouth  has,  as  we  saw,  a  further  important  func- 
tion, which  has  just  as  much  sexual  relation  to  the  object 
as  the  hand,  that  is  to  say,  the  production  of  the  mating 
call.  In  opening  up  the  autoerotic  ring  ( hand-mouth ),^^ 
where  the  phallic  hand  became  the  fire-producing  tool, 
the  libido  which  was  directed  to  the  mouth  zone  was 
obliged  to  seek  another  path  of  functioning,  which  natu- 
rally was  found  in  the  already  existing  love  call.  The 
excess  of  libido  entering  here  must  have  had  the  usual 


178       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

results,  namely,  the  stimulation  of  the  newly  possessed 
function;  hence  an  elaboration  of  the  mating  call. 

We  know  that  from  the  primitive  sounds  human  speech 
has  developed.  Corresponding  to  the  psychological  situa- 
tion, it  might  be  assumed  that  language  owes  its  real 
origin  to  this  moment,  when  the  impulse,  repressed  into 
the  presexual  stage,  turns  to  the  external  in  order  to  find 
an  equivalent  object  there.  The  real  thought  as  a  con- 
scious activity  is,  as  we  saw  in  the  first  part  of  this  book, 
a  thinking  with  positive  determination  towards  the  ex- 
ternal world,  that  is  to  say,  a  "  speech  thinking."  This 
sort  of  thinking  seems  to  have  originated  at  that  moment. 
It  is  very  remarkable  that  this  view,  which  was  won  by 
the  path  of  reasoning,  is  again  supported  by  old  tradition 
and  other  mythological  fragments. 

In  Aitareyopanishad  ^^  the  following  quotation  is  to 
be  found  in  the  doctrine  of  the  development  of  man: 
"  Being  brooded-o'er,  his  mouth  hatched  out,  like  as  an 
egg;  from  out  his  mouth  (came)  speech,  from  speech,  the 
fire."  In  Part  II,  where  it  is  depicted  how  the  newly 
created  objects  entered  man,  it  reads:  "  Fire,  speech  be- 
coming, entered  in  the  mouth."  These  quotations  allow 
us  to  plainly  recognize  the  intimate  connection  between 
fire  and  speech.*"  In  Brihadaranyaka-Upanishad  is  to  be 
found  this  passage : 

"  '  Yaynavalkya,'  thus  he  spake,  '  when  after  the  death  of  this 
man  his  speech  entereth  the  fire,  his  breath  into  the  wind,  his  eye 
into  the  sun,  etc'  " 

A  further  quotation  from  the  Brihadaranyaka-Upani- 
shad reads: 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       179 

"  But  when  the  sun  is  set,  O  Yaynavalkya,  and  the  moon  has 
set,  and  the  fire  is  extinguished,  what  then  serves  man  as  light? 
Then  speech  serves  him  as  light;  then,  by  the  light  of  speech 
he  sits,  and  moves,  he  carries  on  his  work,  and  he  returns  home. 
But  when  the  sun  is  set,  O  Yaynavalkya,  and  the  moon  is  set, 
and  the  fire  extinguished,  and  the  voice  is  dumb,  what  then  serves 
man  as  light?  Then  he  serves  himself  (Atman)  as  light;  then, 
by  the  light  of  himself,  he  sits  and  moves,  carries  on  his  work 
and  returns  home." 

In  this  passage  we  notice  that  fire  again  stands  In  the 
closest  relation  to  speech.  Speech  itself  is  called  a 
"  light,"  which,  in  its  turn,  is  reduced  to  the  "  light "  of 
the  Atman,  the  creating  psychic  force,  the  libido.  Thus 
the  Hindoo  metapsychology  conceives  speech  and  fire 
as  emanations  of  the  inner  light  from  which  we  know 
that  it  is  libido.  Speech  and  fire  are  its  forms  of  mani- 
festation, the  first  human  arts,  which  have  resulted  from 
its  transformation.  This  common  psychologic  origin 
seems  also  to  be  indicated  by  certain  results  of  philology. 
The  Indo-Germanic  root  bhd  designates  the  idea  of  "  to 
lighten,  to  shine."  This  root  is  found  in  Greek,  g)aoOf 
(paivGOy  g}do?  *j  in  old  Icelandic  ban  =  white,  in  New 
High  German  bohnen  =  to  make  shining.  The  same  root 
bhd  also  designates  "to  speak";  it  is  found  in  Sanskrit 
bhan  =  to  speak,  Armenian  ban  =  word,  in  New  High 
German  bann  =^  to  banish,  Greek  (pa-;^if  s'tpav,  (par i?.\ 
Latin  fd-ri,  fdnum. 

The  root  bhelso,  with  the  meanings  "  to  ring,  to  bark," 
is  found  in  Sanskrit  bhas  =  to  bark  and  bhds  =  to  talk, 

*  To  shine;   to  show  forth;  reveal; — light, 
tl  said;  they  said;  a  saying;  an  oracle. 


i8o       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

to  speak;  Lithuanian  balsas  =  voice,  tone.  Re^llf  bhel-so 
=  to  be  bright  or  luminous.  Compare  Greek  cpdXo?  =: 
bright,  Lithuanian  bdlti  =  to  become  white.  Middle  High 
German  blasz  =  pale. 

The  root  Id,  with  the  meaning  of  "  to  make  sound,  to 
bark,"  is  found  in  Sanskrit  las,  ldsati  =  to  resound;  and 
las,  Idsati  =  to  radiate,  to  shine. 

The  related  root  leso,  with  the  meaning  "  desire,"  is 
also  found  in  Sanskrit  las,  Idsati  =  to  play;  lash,  Idshati 
=  to  desire.  Greek  A ao-rorL'po?  =  lustful,  Gothic  lustus, 
New  High  German  Lust,  Latin  lascivus. 

A  further  related  root,  Idso  =  to  shine,  to  radiate,  is 
found  in  las,  Idsati  =  to  radiate,  to  shine. 

This  group  unites,  as  is  evident,  the  meanings  of  "  to 
desire,  to  play,  to  radiate,  and  to  sound."  A  similar 
archaic  confluence  of  meanings  in  the  primal  libido  sym- 
bolism (as  we  are  perhaps  justified  in  calling  it)  is  found 
in  that  class  of  Egyptian  words  which  are  derived  from 
the  closely  related  roots  ben  and  bel  and  the  reduplication 
benben  and  belbel.  The  original  significance  of  these 
roots  is  "  to  burst  forth,  to  emerge,  to  extrude,  to  well 
out,"  with  the  associated  idea  of  bubbling,  boiling  and 
roundness.  Belbel,  accompanied  by  the  sign  of  the  obe- 
lisk, of  originally  phallic  nature,  means  source  of  light. 
The  obelisk  itself  had  besides  the  names  of  techenu  and 
men  also  the  name  benben,  more  rarely  berber  and 
belbel.^^  The  libido  symbolism  makes  clear  this  connec- 
tion, it  seems  to  me. 

The  Indo-Germanic  root  vel,  with  the  meaning  "  to 
wave,  to  undulate"   (fire),  is  found  in  Sanskrit  ulunka 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       i8i 

=  burning,  Greek  a\sa,  Attic  a\ea  =  warmtli  of  the 
sun,  Gothic  vulan  =  to  undulate,  Old  High  German  and 
Middle  High  German  walni  =  heat,  glow. 

The  related  Indo-Germanic  root  velko,  with  the  mean- 
ing of  "  to  lighten,  to  glow,"  is  found  in  Sanskrit  iilkd  — 
firebrand,  Greek  FfAj^ro?^  Vulcan.  This  same  root 
vel  means  also  "  to  sound  " ;  in  Sanskrit  vdni  ==  tone,  song, 
music.    Tschech  volati  =  to  call. 

The  root  sveno  =  to  sound,  to  ring,  is  found  in  San- 
skrit svan,  svdnati  =  to  rustle,  to  sound;  Zend  qanaht, 
Latin  sondre,  Old  Iranian  senm,  Cambrian  sain,  Latin 
sonus,  Anglo-Saxon  svinsian  =  to  resound.  The  related 
root  svenos  =  noise,  sound,  is  found  in  Vedic  svdnas  = 
noise,  Latin  sonor,  sonorus.  A  further  related  root  is 
svonos  =  tone,  noise;  in  Old  Iranian  son  =  word. 

The  root  sve  (n),  locative  sveni,  dative  sunei,  means 
sun;  in  Zend  qehg  =  sun.  (Compare  above  sveno,  Zend 
qanafit) ;  Gothic  sun-na,  sunno.*^  Here  Goethe  has  pre- 
ceded us : 

"  The  sun  orb  sings  in  emulation, 
'Mid   brother-spheres,   his   ancient   round: 
His  path  predestined  through  Creation, 
He  ends  with  step  of  thunder  sound." 

— Faust.     Part  I. 

"Hearken!      Hark!   the  hours  careering! 
Sounding  loud   to  spirit-hearing, 
See  the  new-born  Day  appearing! 
Rocky  portals  jarring  shatter, 
Phoebus'  wheels  in  rolling  clatter, 
With  a  crash  the  Light  draws  near! 
Pealing  rays  and  trumpet-blazes, 
Eye  is  blinded,  ear  amazes; 


i82       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

The  Unheard  can  no  one  hear! 
Slip  within  each  blossom-bell, 
Deeper,  deeper,  there  to  dwell, — 
In  the  rocks,  beneath  the  leaf! 
If  it  strikes  you,  you  are  deaf." 

— Faust.     Part  II. 

We  also  must  not  forget  the  beautiful  verse  of  Hol- 
derlin : 

"  Where  art  thou?    Drunken,  my  soul  dreams 
Of  all  thy  rapture.     Yet  even  now  I  hearken 
As  full  of  golden  tones  the  radiant  sun  youth 
Upon  his  heavenly  lyre  plays  his  even  song 
To  the  echoing  woods  and  hills." 

Just  as  in  archaic  speech  fire  and  the  speech  sounds 
(the  mating  call,  music)  appear  as  forms  of  emanation 
of  the  libido,  thus  light  and  sound  entering  the  psyche  be- 
come one :  libido. 

Manilius  expresses  it  in  his  beautiful  verses: 

"  Quid  mirum  noscere  mundum 
Si  possunt  homines,  quibus  est  et  mundus  in  ipsis 
Exemplumque  dei  quisque  est  in  imagine  parva? 
An  quoquam  genitos  nisi  caelo  credere  fas  est 
Esse  homines? 

Stetit  unus  in  arcem 
Erectus  capitis  victorque  ad  sidera  mittit  sidereos  oculos."  * 

The  idea  of  the  Sanskrit  tejas  suggests  the  fundamental 
significance  of  the  libido  for  the  conception  of  the  world 
in  general.     I  am  indebted  to  Dr.  Abegg,  in  Zurich,  a 

*  Why  is  it  wonderful  to  understand  the  universe,  if  men  are  able?  i.e., 
men  in  whose  very  being  the  universe  exists  and  each  one  (of  whom)  is 
a  representative  of  God  in  miniature?  Or  is  it  right  to  believe  that  men 
have  sprung  in  any  way  except  from  heaven — He  alone  stands  in  the 
midst  of  the  citadel,  a  conqueror,  his  head  erect  and  his  shining  eyes  fixed 
on  the  stars. 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       183 

thorough  Sanskrit  scholar,   for  the  compilation  of  the 
eight  meanings  of  this  word. 

Tejas  signifies : 

1.  Sharpness,  cutting  edge. 

2.  Fire,  splendor,  light,  glow,  heat. 

3.  Healthy  appearance,  beauty. 

4.  The  fiery  and  color-producing  power  of  the  human 
organism  (thought  to  be  in  the  bile). 

5.  Power,  energy,  vital  force. 

6.  Passionate  nature. 

7.  Mental,  also  magic,  strength;  influence,  position, 
dignity. 

8.  Sperma. 

This  gives  us  a  dim  idea  of  how,  for  primitive 
thought,  the  so-called  objective  world  was,  and  had  to  be, 
a  subjective  image.  To  this  thought  must  be  applied  the 
words  of  the  "  Chorus  Mysticus  " : 

"  All  that  is  perishable 
Is  only  an  allegory." 

The  Sanskrit  word  for  fire  is  agnis  (.the  Latin  ignis)  ;  ** 
the  fire  personified  is  the  god  Agni,  the  divine  mediator,^* 
whose  symbol  has  certain  points  of  contact  with  that  of 
Christ.  In  Avesta  and  in  the  Vedas  the  fire  is  the  mes- 
senger of  the  gods.  In  the  Christian  mythology  certain 
parts  are  closely  related  with  the  myth  of  Agni.  Daniel 
speaks  of  the  three  men  in  the  fiery  furnace : 

"  Then  Nebuchadnezar,  the  King,  was  astonished,  and  rose 
up  in  haste  and  spake,  and  said  unto  his  counsellors :  '  Did  not 
we  cast  three  men  bound  into  the  midst  of  the  fire?  ' 


i84       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

"  They  answered  and  said:  '  True,  O  King! ' 

"  He  answered  and  said :  '  Lo,  I  see  four  men  loose,  walking 
in  the  midst  of  the  fire,  and  they  have  no  hurt;  and  the  form  of 
the  fourth  is  like  the  Son  of  God.'  " 

In  regard  to  that  the  "  Biblia  pauperum  "  observes 
(according  to  an  old  German  incunabulum  of  147 1)  : 

"  One  reads  in  the  third  chapter  of  the  prophet  Daniel  that 
Nebuchadnezar,  the  King,  caused  three  men  to  be  placed  in  a 
glowing  furnace  and  that  the  king  often  went  there,  looked  in, 
and  that  he  saw  with  the  three,  a  fourth,  who  was  like  the  Son 
of  God.  The  three  signify  for  us,  the  Holy  Trinity  and  the 
fourth,  the  unity  of  the  being,  Christ,  too,  in  His  explanation 
designated  the  person  of  the  Trinity  and  the  unity  of  the  being." 

According  to  this  mystic  interpretation,  the  legend  of 
the  three  men  in  the  fiery  furnace  appears  as  a  magic 
fire  ceremony  by  means  of  which  the  Son  of  God  reveals 
himself.  The  Trinity  is  brought  together  with  the  unity, 
or,  in  other  words,  through  coitus  a  child  is  produced. 
The  glowing  furnace  (like  the  glowing  tripod  in 
"Faust")  is  a  mother  symbol,  where  the  children  are 
produced.*^  The  fourth  in  the  fiery  furnace  appears  as 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  who  has  become  a  visible  God 
in  the  fire.  The  mystic  trinity  and  unity  are  sexual  sym- 
bols. ( Compare  with  that  the  many  references  in  Inman : 
"  Ancient  Pagan  and  Modern  Christian  Symbolism.")  It 
is  said  of  the  Saviour  of  Israel  (the  Messiah)  and  of  his 
enemies,  Isaiah  x:  17: 

"  And  the  light  of  Israel  shall  be  for  a  fire,  and  his  Holy  One 
for  a  flame." 

In  a  hymn  of  the  Syrian  Ephrem  it  is  said  of  Christ: 
"  Thou  who  art  all  fire,  have  mercy  upon  me." 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       185 

Agni  is  the  sacrificial  flame,  the  sacrificer,  and  the  sac- 
rificed, as  Christ  himself.  Just  as  Christ  left  behind  his 
redeeming  blood,  qxipfiauov  aOavaffia?,*  in  the  stimu- 
lating wine,  so  Agni  is  the  Soma,  the  holy  drink  of  in- 
spiration, the  mead  of  immortality.**  Soma  and  Fire 
are  entirely  identical  in  Hindoo  literature,  so  that  in 
Soma  we  easily  rediscover  the  libido  symbol,  through 
which  a  series  of  apparently  paradoxical  qualities  of  the 
Soma  are  immediately  explained.  As  the  old  Hindoos 
recognized  in  fire  an  emanation  of  the  inner  libido  fire, 
so  too  they  recognized,  in  the  intoxicating  drink  (Fire- 
water, Soma-Agni,  as  rain  and  fire),  an  emanation  of 
libido.  The  Vedic  definition  of  Soma  as  seminal  fluid 
confirms  this  interpretation.*^  The  Soma  significance  of 
fire,  similar  to  the  significance  of  the  body  of  Christ  in  the 
Last  Supper  (compare  the  Passover  lamb  of  the  Jews, 
baked  in  the  form  of  a  cross),  is  explained  by  the  psy- 
chology of  the  presexual  stage,  where  the  libido  was  still 
in  part  the  function  of  nutrition.  The  "  Soma  "  is  the 
"  nourishing  drink,"  the  mythological  characterization  of 
which  runs  parallel  to  fire  in  its  origin;  therefore,  both  are 
united  in  Agni.  The  drink  of  immortality  was  stirred  by 
the  Hindoo  gods  like  fire.  Through  the  retreat  of  the 
libido  into  the  presexual  stage  it  becomes  clear  why  so 
many  gods  were  either  defined  sexually  or  were  devoured. 

As  was  shown  by  our  discussion  of  fire  preparation,  the 
fire  tool  did  not  receive  its  sexual  significance  as  a  later 
addition,  but  the  sexual  libido  was  the  motor  power  which 
led  to  its  discovery,  so  that  the  later  teachings  of  the 

♦A  potion  of  immortality. 


i86       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

priests  were  nothing  but  confirmations  of  its  actual  origin. 
Other  primitive  discoveries  probably  have  acquired  their 
sexual  symbolism  in  the  same  manner,  being  also  derived 
from  the  sexual  libido. 

In  the  previous  statements,  which  were  based  on  the 
Pramantha  of  the  Agni  sacrifice,  we  have  concerned  our- 
selves only  with  one  significance  of  the  word  manthami 
or  mathnami,  that  is  to  say,  with  that  which  expresses 
the  movement  of  rubbing.  As  Kuhn  shows,  however,  this 
word  also  possesses  the  meaning  of  tearing  off,  taking 
away  by  violence,  robbing.**  As  Kuhn  points  out,  this 
significance  is  already  extant  in  the  Vedic  text.  The 
legend  of  its  discovery  always  expresses  the  production  of 
fire  as  a  robbery.  (In  this  far  it  belongs  to  the  motive 
widely  spread  over  the  earth  of  the  treasure  difficult  to 
attain.)  The  fact  that  in  many  places  and  not  alone  in 
India  the  preparation  of  fire  is  represented  as  having  its 
origin  in  robbery,  seems  to  point  to  a  widely  spread 
thought,  according  to  which  the  preparation  of  fire  was 
something  forbidden,  something  usurped  or  criminal, 
which  could  be  obtained  only  through  stratagem  or  deeds 
of  violence  (mostly  through  stratagem).*^  When  onan- 
ism confronts  the  physician  as  a  symptom  it  does  so  fre- 
quently under  the  symbol  of  secret  pilfering,  or  crafty 
imposition,  which  always  signifies  the  concealed  fulfil- 
ment of  a  forbidden  wish.^"  Historically,  this  train  of 
thought  probably  implies  that  the  ritual  preparation  of 
fire  was  employed  with  a  magic  purpose,  and,  therefore, 
was  pursued  by  official  religions;  then  it  became  a  ritual 
mystery,^^  guarded  by  the  priests  and  surrounded  with 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       187 

secrecy.  The  ritual  laws  of  the  Hindoos  threaten  with 
severe  punishment  him  who  prepares  fire  in  an  incorrect 
manner.  The  fact  alone  that  something  is  mysterious 
means  the  same  as  something  done  in  concealment;  that 
which  must  remain  secret,  which  one  may  not  see  nor  do; 
also  something  which  is  surrounded  by  severe  punish- 
ment of  body  and  soul;  therefore,  presumably,  something 
forbidden  which  has  received  a  license  as  a  religious  rite. 
After  all  has  been  said  about  the  genesis  of  the  prepara- 
tion of  fire,  it  is  no  longer  difficult  to  guess  what  is  the 
forbidden  thing;  it  is  onanism.  When  I  stated  before 
that  it  might  be  lack  of  satisfaction  which  breaks  up  the 
autoerotic  ring  of  the  displaced  sexual  activity  transferred 
to  the  body  itself,  and  thus  opens  wider  fields  of  culture, 
I  did  not  mention  that  this  loosely  closed  ring  of  the  dis- 
placed onanlstic  activity  could  be  much  more  firmly  closed, 
when  man  makes  the  other  great  discovery,  that  of  true 
onanism. ^^  With  that  the  activity  is  started  in  the  proper 
place,  and  this,  under  certain  circumstances,  may  mean  a 
satisfaction  sufficient  for  a  long  time,  but  at  the  expense 
of  cheating  sexuality  of  Its  real  purpose.  It  Is  a  fraud 
upon  the  natural  development  of  things,  because  all  the 
dynamic  forces  which  can  and  should  serve  the  develop- 
ment of  culture  are  withdrawn  from  it  through  onanism, 
since,  Instead  of  the  displacement,  a  regression  to  the  local 
sexual  takes  place,  which  Is  precisely  the  opposite  of  that 
which  is  desirable.  Psychologically,  however,  onanism  Is 
a  discovery  of  a  significance  not  to  be  undervalued.  One 
is  protected  from  fate,  since  no  sexual  need  then  has  the 
power  to  give  one  up  to  life.    For  with  onanism  one  has 


i88       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

the  greatest  magic  in  one's  hands;  one  needs  only  to 
phantasy,  and  with  that  to  masturbate,  then  one  possesses 
all  the  pleasure  of  the  world,  and  is  no  longer  compelled 
to  conquer  the  world  of  one's  desires  through  hard  labor 
and  wrestling  with  reality.^^  Aladdin  rubs  his  lamp  and 
the  obedient  genii  stand  at  his  bidding;  thus  the  fairy  tale 
expresses  the  great  psychologic  advantage  of  the  easy  re- 
gression to  the  local  sexual  satisfaction.  Aladdin's  sym- 
bol subtly  confirms  the  ambiguity  of  the  magic  fire 
preparation. 

The  close  relation  of  the  generation  of  fire  to  the  onan- 
istic  act  is  illustrated  by  a  case,  the  knowledge  of  which  I 
owe  to  Dr.  Schmid,  in  Cery,  that  of  an  imbecile  peasant 
youth  who  set  many  incendiary  fires.  At  one  of  these 
conflagrations  he  drew  suspicion  to  himself  by  his  be- 
havior. He  stood  with  his  hands  in  his  trouser  pockets 
in  the  door  of  an  opposite  house  and  gazed  with  apparent 
delight  at  the  fire.  Under  examination  in  the  insane 
asylum,  he  described  the  fire  in  great  detail,  and  made 
suspicious  movements  in  his  ^trouser  pockets  with  his 
hands.  The  physical  examination  undertaken  at  once 
showed  that  he  had  masturbated.  Later  he  confessed 
that  he  had  masturbated  at  the  time  when  he  had  enjoyed 
the  fire  which  he  had  enkindled  himself. 

The  preparation  of  fire  in  itself  is  a  perfectly  ordinary 
useful  custom,  employed  everywhere  for  many  centuries, 
which  in  itself  involved  nothing  more  mysterious  than 
eating  and  drinking.  However,  there  was  always  a  tend- 
ency from  time  to  time  to  prepare  fire  in  a  ceremonious 
and  mysterious  manner  (exactly  as  with  ritual  eating  and 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  THE  LIBIDO       189 

drinking) ,  which  was  to  be  carried  out  in  an  exactly  pre- 
scribed way  and  from  which  no  one  dared  differ.  This 
mysterious  tendency  associated  with  the  technique  is  the 
second  path  in  the  onanistic  regression,  always  present 
by  the  side  of  culture.  The  strict  rules  applied  to  it, 
the  zeal  of  the  ceremonial  preparations  and  the  religious 
awe  of  the  mysteries  next  originate  from  this  source; 
the  ceremonial,  although  apparently  irrational,  is  an  ex- 
tremely ingenious  institution  from  the  psychologic  stand- 
point, for  it  represents  a  substitute  for  the  possibility  of 
onanistic  regression  accurately  circumscribed  by  law. 
The  law  cannot  apply  to  the  content  of  the  ceremony,  for 
it  is  really  quite  indifferent  for  the  ritual  act,  whether  it 
is  carried  out  in  this  way  or  in  that  way.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  is  very  essential  whether  the  restrained  libido  is 
discharged  through  a  sterile  onanism  or  transposed  into 
the  path  of  sublimation.  These  severe  measures  of  pro- 
tection apply  primarily  to  onanism.^* 

I  am  indebted  to  Freud  for  a  further  important  refer- 
ence to  the  onanistic  nature  of  the  fire  theft,  or  rather 
the  motive  of  the  treasure  difficult  of  attainment  (to 
which  fire  theft  belongs).  Mythology  contains  repeated 
formulas  v/hich  read  approximately  as  follows:  The 
treasure  must  be  plucked  or  torn  off  from  a  taboo  tree 
(Paradise  tree,  Hesperides)  ;  this  is  a  forbidden  and  dan- 
gerous act.  The  clearest  example  of  this  is  the  old  bar- 
baric custom  in  the  service  of  Diana  of  Aricia :  only  he 
can  become  a  priest  of  the  goddess  who,  in  her  sacred 
grove,  dares  to  tear  off  ("  abzureissen  ")  a  bough.  The 
tearing  off  has  been  retained  in  vulgar  speech   (besides 


I90       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

"  abreiben,"  rubbing)  as  a  symbol  of  the  act  of  onanism. 
Thus  "  reiben,"  to  rub,  Is  like  "  relssen,"  to  break  off, 
both  of  which  are  contained  In  manthami  and  united 
apparently  only  through  the  myth  of  the  fire  theft  bound 
up  in  the  act  of  onanism  in  a  deeper  stratum  wherein 
"  reiben,"  properly  speaking,  "  relssen,"  is  employed,  but 
in  a  transferred  sense.  Therefore,  it  might  perhaps  be 
anticipated  that  In  the  deepest  stratum,  namely,  the  in- 
cestuous, which  precedes  the  autoerotic  stage, °^  the  two 
meanings  coincide,  which,  through  lack  of  mythological 
tradition,  can  perhaps  be  traced  through  etymology  only. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO 

Prepared  by  the  previous  chapters,  we  approach  the 
personification  of  the  libido  In  the  form  of  a  conqueror, 
a  hero  or  a  demon.  With  this,  symbohsm  leaves  the  Im- 
personal and  neuter  realm,  which  characterizes  the  astral 
and  meteorologic  symbol,  and  takes  human  form:  the 
figure  of  a  being  changing  from  sorrow  to  joy,  from  joy 
to  sorrow,  and  which,  like  the  sun,  sometimes  stands  in 
Its  zenith,  sometimes  Is  plunged  In  darkest  night,  and 
arises  from  this  very  night  to  new  splendor/  Just  as  the 
sun,  guided  by  Its  own  Internal  laws,  ascends  from  morn 
till  noon,  and  passing  beyond  the  noon  descends  towards 
evening,  leaving  behind  its  splendor,  and  then  sinks  com- 
pletely Into  the  all-enveloping  night,  thus,  too,  does  man- 
kind follow  his  course  according  to  Immutable  laws,  and 
also  sinks,  after  his  course  is  completed.  Into  night,  in 
order  to  rise  again  In  the  morning  to  a  new  cycle  in  his 
children.  The  symbolic  transition  from  sun  to  man  is 
easy  and  practicable.  The  third  and  last  creation  of 
Miss  Miller's  also  takes  this  course.  She  calls  this  piece 
"  Chiwantopel,"  a  "  hypnagogic  poem."  She  gives  us  the 
following  Information  about  the  circumstances  surround- 
ing the  origin  of  this  phantasy: 

"  After  an  evening  of  care  and  anxiety,  I  lay  down  to  sleep 
at  about  half  past  eleven.     I   felt  excited  and  unable  to  sleep, 

191 


192       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

although  I  was  very  tired.  There  was  no  light  in  the  room.  I 
closed  my  eyes,  and  then  I  had  the  feeling  that  something  was 
about  to  happen.  The  sensation  of  a  general  relaxation  came 
over  me,  and  I  remained  as  passive  as  possible.  Lines  appeared 
before  my  eyes, — sparks  and  shining  spirals,  followed  by  a  kaleido- 
scopic review  of  recent  trivial  occurrences." 

The  reader  will  regret  with  me  that  we  cannot  know 
the  reason  for  her  cares  and  anxieties.  It  would  have 
been  of  great  importance  for  what  follows  to  have  infor- 
mation on  this  point.  This  gap  in  our  knowledge  is  the 
more  to  be  deplored  because,  between  the  first  poem  in 
1898  and  the  time  of  the  phantasy  here  discussed  ( 1902), 
four  whole  years  have  passed.  All  information  is  lacking 
regarding  this  period,  during  which  the  great  problem 
surely  survived  in  the  unconscious.  Perhaps  this  lack  has 
Its  advantages  In  that  our  Interest  Is  not  diverted  from 
the  universal  applicability  of  the  phantasy  here  produced 
by  sympathy  In  regard  to  the  personal  fate  of  the  author. 
Therefore,  something  Is  obviated  which  often  prevents 
the  analyst  In  his  daily  task  from  looking  away  from  the 
tedious  toll  of  detail  to  that  wider  relation  which  reveals 
each  neurotic  conflict  to  be  Involved  with  human  fate  as  a 
whole. 

The  condition  depicted  by  the  author  here  corresponds 
to  such  a  one  as  usually  precedes  an  Intentional  somnam- 
bulism ^  often  described  by  spiritualistic  mediums.  A  cer- 
tain inclination  to  listen  to  these  low  nocturnal  voices 
must  be  assumed;  otherwise  such  fine  and  hardly  per- 
ceptible Inner  experiences  pass  unnoticed.  We  recognize 
In  this  listening  a  current  of  the  libido  leading  Inward 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      193 

and  beginning  to  flow  towards  a  still  invisible,  mysterious 
goal.  It  seems  that  the  libido  has  suddenly  discovered  an 
object  in  the  depths  of  the  unconscious  which  powerfully 
attracts  it.  The  life  of  man,  turned  wholly  to  the  external 
by  nature,  does  not  ordinarily  permit  such  introversion; 
there  must,  therefore,  be  surmised  a  certain  exceptional 
condition,  that  is  to  say,  a  lack  of  external  objects,  which 
compels  the  individual  to  seek  a  substitute  for  them  in  his 
own  soul.  It  is,  however,  difficult  to  imagine  that  this 
rich  world  has  become  too  poor  to  offer  an  object  for 
the  love  of  human  atoms;  nor  can  the  world  and  its 
objects  be  held  accountable  for  this  lack.  It  offers  bound- 
less opportunities  for  every  one.  It  is  rather  the  inca- 
pacity to  love  which  robs  mankind  of  his  possibilities. 
This  world  is  empty  to  him  alone  who  does  not  under- 
stand how  to  direct  his  libido  towards  objects,  and  to 
render  them  alive  and  beautiful  for  himself,  for  Beauty 
does  not  indeed  lie  in  things,  but  in  the  feeling  that  we 
give  to  them.  That  which  compels  us  to  create  a  sub- 
stitute for  ourselves  is  not  the  external  lack  of  objects, 
but  our  incapacity  to  lovingly  include  a  thing  outside  of 
ourselves.  Certainly  the  difficulties  of  the  conditions  of 
life  and  the  adversities  of  the  struggle  for  existence  may 
oppress  us,  yet  even  adverse  external  situations  would  not 
hinder  the  giving  out  of  the  libido;  on  the  contrary,  they 
may  spur  us  on  to  the  greatest  exertions,  whereby  we 
bring  our  whole  libido  into  reality.  Real  difficulties  alone 
will  never  be  able  to  force  the  libido  back  permanently 
to  such  a  degree  as  to  give  rise,  for  example,  to  a  neu- 
rosis.    The  conflict,  which  is  the  condition  of  every  neu- 


194       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

rosis,  is  lacking.  The  resistance,  which  opposes  its  un- 
willingness to  the  will,  alone  has  the  power  to  produce 
that  pathogenic  introversion  which  is  the  starting  point  of 
every  psychogenic  disturbance.  The  resistance  against 
loving  produces  the  inability  to  love.  Just  as  the  normal 
libido  is  comparable  to  a  steady  stream  which  pours  its 
waters  broadly  into  the  world  of  reality,  so  the  resistance, 
dynamically  considered,  is  comparable,  not  so  much  to  a 
rock  rearing  up  in  the  river  bed  which  is  flooded  over 
or  surrounded  by  the  stream,  as  to  a  backward  flow 
towards  the  source.  A  part  of  the  soul  desires  the  outer 
object;  another  part,  however,  harks  back  to  the  sub- 
jective world,  where  the  airy  and  fragile  palaces  of 
phantasy  beckon.  One  can  assume  the  dualism  of  the 
human  will  for  which  Bleuler,  from  the  psychiatric  point 
of  view,  has  coined  the  word  "  ambitendency"  ^  as  some- 
thing generally  present,  bearing  in  mind  that  even 
the  most  primitive  motor  Impulse  is  in  opposition;  as, 
for  example,  in  the  act  of  extension,  the  flexor  muscles 
also  become  innervated.  This  normal  ambitendency, 
however,  never  leads  to  an  inhibition  or  prevention  of  the 
intended  act,  but  is  the  indispensable  preliminary  require- 
ment for  its  perfection  and  coordination.  For  a  resist- 
ance disturbing  to  this  act  to  arise  from  this  harmony  of 
finely  attuned  opposition  an  abnormal  plus  or  minus 
would  be  needed  on  one  or  the  other  side.  The  resist- 
ance originates  from  this  added  third.*  This  applies  also 
to  the  duality  of  the  will,  from  which  so  many  difficulties 
arise  for  mankind.  The  abnormal  third  frees  the  pair 
of  opposltes,  which  are  normally  most  intimately  united, 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      195 

and  causes  their  manifestation  in  the  form  of  separate 
tendencies;  it  is  only  thus  that  they  become  willingness 
and  unwillingness,  which  interfere  with  each  other.  The 
Bhagavad-Gita  says,  "  Be  thou  free  of  the  pairs  of 
opposites."  '^  The  harmony  thus  becomes  disharmony. 
It  cannot  be  my  task  here  to  investigate  whence  the  un- 
known third  arises,  and  what  it  is.  Taken  at  the  roots 
in  the  case  of  our  patients,  the  "  nuclear  complex " 
(Freud)  reveals  itself  as  the  incest  problem.  The  sexual 
libido  regressing  to  the  parents  appears  as  the  incest  tend- 
ency. The  reason  this  path  is  so  easily  travelled  is  due 
to  the  enormous  indolence  of  mankind,  which  will  relin- 
quish no  object  of  the  past,  but  will  hold  it  fast  forever. 
The  "  sacrilegious  backward  grasp  "  of  which  Nietzsche 
speaks  reveals  itself,  stripped  of  its  incest  covering, 
as  an  original  passive  arrest  of  the  libido  in  its  first  object 
of  childhood.  This  indolence  is  also  a  passion,  as  La 
Rochefoucauld '^  has  brilliantly  expressed  it: 
■ 

"  Of  all  passions,  that  which  is  least  known  to  ourselves  is 
indolence:  it  is  the  most  ardent  and  malignant  of  them  all,  al- 
though its  violence  may  be  insensible,  and  the  injuries  it  causes 
may  be  hidden;  if  we  will  consider  its  power  attentively,  we  will 
see  that  it  makes  itself,  upon  all  occasions,  mistress  of  our  senti- 
ments, of  our  interests,  and  of  our  pleasures;  it  is  the  anchor, 
which  has  the  power  to  arrest  the  largest  vessels;  it  is  a  calm  more 
dangerous  to  the  most  important  affairs  than  rocks  and  the  worst 
tempest.  The  repose  of  indolence  is  a  secret  charm  of  the  soul 
which  suddenly  stops  the  most  ardent  pursuits  and  the  firmest 
resolutions;  finally  to  give  the  true  idea  of  this  passion,  one 
must  say  that  indolence  is  like  a  beatitude  of  the  soul  which 
consoles  it  for  all  its  losses  and  takes  the  place  of  all  its  posses- 
sions." 


196       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

This  dangerous  passion,  belonging  above  all  others  to 
primitive  man,  appears  under  the  hazardous  mask  of  the 
incest  symbol,  from  which  the  incest  fear  must  drive  us 
away,  and  which  must  be  conquered,  in  the  first  place, 
under  the  image  of  the  "  terrible  mother."  ^  It  is  the 
mother  of  innumerable  evils,  not  the  least  of  which  are 
neurotic  troubles.  For,  especially  from  the  fogs  of  the 
arrested  remnants  of  the  libido,  arise  the  harmful  phan- 
tasmagoria which  so  veil  reality  that  adaptation  becomes 
almost  impossible.  However,  we  will  not  investigate  any 
further  in  this  place  the  foundations  of  the  incest  phan- 
tasies. The  preliminary  suggestion  of  my  purely  psycho- 
logic conception  of  the  incest  problem  may  suffice.  We 
are  here  only  concerned  with  the  question  whether  resist- 
ance which  leads  to  introversion  in  our  author  signifies 
a  conscious  external  difficulty  or  not.  If  it  were  an  ex- 
ternal difficulty,  then,  indeed,  the  libido  would  be  violently 
dammed  back,  and  would  produce  a  flood  of  phantasies, 
which  can  best  be  designated  as  schemes,  that  is  to  say, 
plans  as  to  how  the  obstacles  could  be  overcome.  They 
would  be  very  concrete  ideas  of  reality  which  seek  to  pave 
the  way  for  solutions.  It  would  be  a  strenuous  medita- 
tion, indeed,  which  would  be  more  likely  to  lead  to  any- 
thing rather  than  to  a  hypnagogic  poem.  The  passive 
condition  depicted  above  in  no  way  fits  in  with  a  real  ex- 
ternal obstacle,  but,  precisely  through  its  passive  submis- 
sion, it  indicates  a  tendency  which  doubtless  scorns  real 
solutions  and  prefers  phantastic  substitutes.  Ultimately 
and  essentially  we  are,  therefore,  dealing  with  an  internal 
conflict,  perhaps  after  the  manner  of  those  earlier  con- 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      197 

flicts  which  led  to  the  two  first  unconscious  creations. 
We,  therefore,  are  forced  to  conclude  that  the  external 
object  cannot  be  loved,  because  a  predominant  amount 
of  libido  prefers  a  phantastic  object,  which  must  be 
brought  up  from  the  depths  of  the  unconscious  as  a  com- 
pensation for  the  missing  reality. 

The  visionary  phenomena,  produced  in  the  first  stages 
of  introversion,  are  grouped  among  the  well-known  phe- 
nomena ^  of  hypnagogic  vision.  They  form,  as  I  ex- 
plained in  an  earlier  paper,  the  foundation  of  the  true 
visions  of  the  symbolic  autorevelations  of  the  libido,  as 
we  may  now  express  it. 

Miss  Miller  continues: 

"  Then  I  had  the  impression  that  some  communication  was 
immediately  impending.  It  seemed  to  me  as  if  there  were  re- 
echoed in  me  the  words,  *  Speak,  O  Lord,  for  Thy  servant  listens ; 
open  Thou  mine  ears!  '  " 

This  passage  very  clearly  describes  the  intention;  the 
expression  "  communication  "  is  even  a  current  term  in 
spiritualistic  circles.  The  Biblical  words  contain  a  clear 
invocation  or  "  prayer,"  that  is  to  say,  a  wish  (libido) 
directed  towards  divinity  (the  unconscious  complex). 
The  prayer  refers  to  Samuel,  i:  3,  where  Samuel  at  night 
was  three  times  called  by  God,  but  believed  that  it  was  Eli 
calling,  until  the  latter  informed  him  that  it  was  God 
himself  who  spoke,  and  that  he  must  answer  if  his  name 
was  called  again — "  Speak,  O  Lord,  for  Thy  Servant 
hears!  "  The  dreamer  uses  these  words  really  in  an  in- 
verse sense,  namely,  in  order  to  produce  God  with  them. 


198       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

With  that  she  directs  her  desires,  her  Hbido,  into  the 
depths  of  her  unconscious. 

We  know  that,  although  individuals  are  widely  sepa- 
rated by  the  differences  in  the  contents  of  their  conscious- 
ness, they  are  closely  alike  in  their  unconscious  psy- 
chology. It  is  a  significant  impression  for  one  working  in 
practical  psychoanalysis  when  he  realizes  how  uniform 
are  the  typical  unconscious  complexes.  Difference  first 
arises  from  individualization.  This  fact  gives  to  an  es- 
sential portion  of  the  Schopenhauer  and  Hartmann 
philosophies  a  deep  psychologic  justification.^  The  very 
evident  uniformity  of  the  unconscious  mechanism  serves 
as  a  psychologic  foundation  for  these  philosophic  views. 
The  unconscious  contains  the  differentiated  remnants  of 
the  earlier  psychologic  functions  overcome  by  the  indi- 
vidual differentiation.  The  reaction  and  products  of  the 
animal  psyche  are  of  a  generally  diffused  uniformity  and 
solidity,  which,  among  men,  may  be  discovered  appar- 
ently only  in  traces.  Man  appears  as  something  extraordi- 
narily individual  in  contrast  with  animals. 

This  might  be  a  tremendous  delusion,  because  we  have 
the  appropriate  tendency  always  to  recognize  only  the 
difference  of  things.  This  is  demanded  by  the  psycho- 
logic adaptation  which,  without  the  most  minute  differ- 
entiation of  the  impressions,  would  be  absolutely  impos- 
sible. In  opposition  to  this  tendency  we  have  ever  the 
greatest  difficulty  in  recognizing  in  their  common  rela- 
tions the  things  with  which  we  are  occupied  in  every- 
day life.  This  recognition  becomes  much  easier  with 
things  which  are  more  remote  from  us.     For  example,  it 


i 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      199 

Is  almost  impossible  for  a  European  to  differentiate  the 
faces  In  a  Chinese  throng,  although  the  Chinese  have  just 
as  individual  facial  formations  as  the  Europeans,  but  the 
similarity  of  their  strange  facial  expression  Is  much  more 
evident  to  the  remote  onlooker  than  their  individual  dif- 
ferences. But  when  we  live  among  the  Chinese  then  the 
Impression  of  their  uniformity  disappears  more  and 
more,  and  finally  the  Chinese  become  individuals  also. 
Individuality  belongs  to  those  conditional  actualities  which 
are  greatly  overrated  theoretically  on  account  of  their 
practical  significance.  It  does  not  belong  to  those  over- 
whelmingly clear  and  therefore  universally  obtrusive  gen- 
eral facts  upon  which  a  science  must  primarily  be  founded. 
The  individual  content  of  consciousness  is,  therefore,  the 
most  unfavorable  object  imaginable  for  psychology,  be- 
cause It  has  veiled  the  universally  valid  until  it  has  become 
unrecognizable.  The  essence  of  consciousness  Is  the 
process  of  adaptation  which  takes  place  In  the  most 
minute  details.  On  the  other  hand,  the  unconscious  Is  the 
generally  diffused,  v/hich  not  only  binds  the  Individuals 
among  themselves  to  the  race,  but  also  unites  them  back- 
wards with  the  peoples  of  the  past  and  their  psychology. 
Thus  the  unconscious,  surpassing  the  Individual  In  Its 
generality,  Is,  In  the  first  place,  the  object  of  a  true  psy- 
chology, which  claims  not  to  be  psychophysical. 

Man  as  an  Individual  Is  a  suspicious  phenomenon,  the 
right  of  whose  existence  from  a  natural  biological  stand- 
point could  be  seriously  contested,  because,  from  this 
point  of  view,  the  individual  Is  only  a  race  atom,  and 
has  a  significance  only  as  a  mass  constituent.    The  ethical 


200       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

standpoint,  however,  gives  to  the  human  being  an  indi- 
vidual tendency  separating  him  from  the  mass,  which,  in 
the  course  of  centuries,  led  to  the  development  of  per- 
sonality, hand  in  hand  with  which  developed  the  hero 
cult,  and  has  led  to  the  modern  individualistic  cult  of 
personages.  The  attempts  of  rationalistic  theology  to 
keep  hold  of  the  personal  Jesus  as  the  last  and  most 
precious  remnant  of  the  divinity  which  has  vanished  be- 
yond the  power  of  the  imagination  corresponds  to  this 
tendency.  In  this  respect  the  Roman  Catholic  Church 
was  more  practical,  because  she  met  the  general  need  of 
the  visible,  or  at  least  historically  believed  hero,  through 
the  fact  that  she  placed  upon  the  throne  of  worship  a 
small  but  clearly  perceptible  god  of  the  world,  namely, 
the  Roman  Pope,  the  Pater  patrum,  and  at  the  same  time 
the  Pontifex  Maximus  of  the  invisible  upper  or  inner  God. 
The  sensuous  demonstrability  of  God  naturally  supports 
the  religious  process  of  introversion,  because  the  human 
figure  essentially  facilitates  the  transference,  for  it  is  not 
easy  to  imagine  something  lovable  or  venerable  in  a  spir- 
itual being.  This  tendency,  everywhere  present,  has  been 
secretly  preserved  in  the  rationalistic  theology  with  its 
Jesus  historically  insisted  upon.  This  does  not  mean  that 
men  loved  the  visible  God;  they  love  him,  not  as  he  is, 
for  he  is  merely  a  man,  and  when  the  pious  wished  to 
love  humanity  they  could  go  to  their  neighbors  and  their 
enemies  to  love  them.  Mankind  wishes  to  love  in  God 
only  their  ideas,  that  is  to  say,  the  ideas  which  they  pro- 
ject into  God.  By  that  they  wish  to  love  their  unconscious, 
that  is,  that  remnant  of  ancient  humanity  and  the  cen- 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      201 

turies-old  past  in  all  people,  namely,  the  common  property- 
left  behind  from  all  development  which  is  given  to  all 
men,  like  the  sunshine  and  the  air.  But  in  loving  this 
inheritance  they  love  that  which  is  common  to  all.  Thus 
they  turn  back  to  the  mother  of  humanity,  that  is  to  say, 
to  the  spirit  of  the  race,  and  regain  in  this  way  some- 
thing of  that  connection  and  of  that  mysterious  and  irre- 
sistible power  which  is  imparted  by  the  feeling  of  belong- 
ing to  the  herd.  It  is  the  problem  of  Antaeus,  who 
preserves  his  gigantic  strength  only  through  contact  with 
mother  earth.  This  temporary  withdrawal  into  one's  self, 
which,  as  we  have  already  seen,  signifies  a  regression  to 
the  childish  bond  to  the  parent,  seems  to  act  favorably, 
within  certain  limits,  in  its  effect  upon  the  psychologic 
condition  of  the  individual.  It  is  in  general  to  be  ex- 
pected that  the  two  fundamental  mechanisms  of  the  psy- 
choses, transference  and  introversion,  are  to  a  wide 
extent  extremely  appropriate  methods  of  normal  reaction 
against  complexes;  transference  as  a  means  of  escaping 
from  the  complex  into  reality;  introversion  as  a  means  of 
detaching  one's  self  from  reality  through  the  complex. 

After  we  have  informed  ourselves  about  the  general 
purposes  of  prayer,  we  are  prepared  to  hear  more  about 
the  vision  of  our  dreamer.  After  the  prayer,  "  the  head 
of  a  sphinx  with  an  Egyptian  headdress  "  appeared,  only 
to  vanish  quickly.  Here  the  author  was  disturbed,  so 
that  for  a  moment  she  awoke.  This  vision  recalls  the 
previously  mentioned  phantasy  of  the  Egyptian  statue, 
whose  rigid  gesture  is  entirely  in  place  here  as  a  phe- 
nomenon of  the  so-called  functional  category.    The  light 


202       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

stages  of  the  hypnosis  are  designated  technically  as 
"  Engourdissement  "  (stiffening).  The  word  Sphinx  in 
the  whole  civilized  world  signifies  the  same  as  riddle :  a 
puzzling  creature  who  proposes  riddles,  like  the  Sphinx 
of  Oedipus,  standing  at  the  portal  of  his  fate  like  a 
symbolic  proclamation  of  the  inevitable.  The  Sphinx  is 
a  semi-theriomorphic  representation  of  that  "  mother 
image "  which  may  be  designated  as  the  "  terrible 
mother,"  of  whom  many  traces  are  found  in  mythology. 
This  interpretation  is  correct  for  Oedipus.  Here  the 
question  is  opened.  The  objection  will  be  raised  that 
nothing  except  the  word  "  Sphinx  "  justifies  the  allusion 
to  the  Sphinx  of  Oedipus.  On  account  of  the  lack  of 
subjective  materials,  which  in  the  Miller  text  are  wholly 
lacking  in  regard  to  this  vision,  an  individual  inter- 
pretation would  also  be  excluded.  The  suggestion 
of  an  "Egyptian"  phantasy  (Part  I,  Chapter  II)  is 
entirely  insuflScient  to  be  employed  here.  Therefore  we 
are  compelled,  if  we  wish  to  venture  at  all  upon  an 
understanding  of  this  vision,  to  direct  ourselves — perhaps 
in  all  too  daring  a  manner — to  the  available  ethnographic 
material  under  the  assumption  that  the  unconscious  of  the 
present-day  man  coins  its  symbols  as  was  done  in  the  most 
remote  past.  The  Sphinx,  in  its  traditional  form,  is  a  half- 
human,  half-animal  creature,  which  we  must,  in  part, 
interpret  in  the  way  that  is  applicable  to  such  phantastic 
products.  The  reader  is  directed  to  the  deductions  in 
the  first  part  of  this  volume  where  the  theriomorphic  rep- 
resentations of  the  libido  were  discussed.  This  manner 
of  representation  is  very  familiar  to  the  analyst,  through 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      203 

the  dreams  and  phantasies  of  neurotics  (and  of  normal 
men).  The  impulse  is  readily  represented  as  an  animal, 
as  a  bull,  horse,  dog,  etc.  One  of  my  patients,  who  had 
questionable  relations  with  women,  and  who  began  the 
treatment  with  the  fear,  so  to  speak,  that  I  would  surely 
forbid  him  his  sexual  adventures,  dreamed  that  I  (his 
physician)  very  skilfully  speared  to  the  wall  a  strange 
animal,  half  pig,  half  crocodile.  Dreams  swarm  with  such 
theriomorphic  representations  of  the  libido.  Mixed 
beings,  such  as  are  in  this  dream,  are  not  rare.  A  series 
of  very  beautiful  Illustrations,  where  especially  the  lower 
half  of  the  animal  was  represented  theriomorphlcally, 
has  been  furnished  by  Bertschlnger.^"  The  libido  which 
was  represented  theriomorphlcally  is  the  "  animal  "  sex- 
uality which  Is  In  a  repressed  state.  The  history  of  re- 
pression, as  we  have  seen,  goes  back  to  the  incest  problem, 
where  the  first  motives  for  moral  resistance  against  sexu- 
ality display  themselves.  The  objects  of  the  repressed 
libido  are,  in  the  last  degree,  the  images  of  father  and 
mother;  therefore  the  theriomorphic  symbols,  in  so  far 
as  they  do  not  symbolize  merely  the  libido  In  general, 
have  a  tendency  to  present  father  and  mother  (for  ex- 
ample, father  represented  by  a  bull,  mother  by  a  cow). 
From  these  roots,  as  we  pointed  out  earlier,  might  prob- 
ably arise  the  theriomorphic  attributes  of  the  Divinity. 
In  as  far  as  the  repressed  libido  manifests  Itself  under 
certain  conditions,  as  anxiety,  these  animals  are  generally 
of  a  horrible  nature.  In  consciousness  we  are  attached 
by  all  sacred  bonds  to  the  mother;  In  the  dream  she  pur- 
sues us  as  a  terrible  animal.    The  Sphinx,  mythologlcally 


204       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

considered,  is  actually  a  fear  animal,  which  reveals  dis- 
tinct traits  of  a  mother  derivate.  In  the  Oedipus  legend 
the  Sphinx  is  sent  by  Hera,  who  hates  Thebes  on  account 
of  the  birth  of  Bacchus;  because  Oedipus  conquers  the 
Sphinx,  which  is  nothing  but  fear  of  the  mother,  he  must 
marry  Jocasta,  his  mother,  for  the  throne  and  the  hand 
of  the  widowed  queen  of  Thebes  belonged  to  him  who 
freed  the  land  from  the  plague  of  the  Sphinx.  The 
genealogy  of  the  Sphinx  is  rich  in  allusions  to  the  problem 
touched  upon  here.  She  is  a  daughter  of  Echnida,  a  mixed 
being;  a  beautiful  maiden  above,  a  hideous  serpent  below. 
This  double  creature  corresponds  to  the  picture  of  the 
mother;  above,  the  human,  lovely  and  attractive  half; 
below,  the  horrible  animal  half,  converted  into  a  fear 
animal  through  the  incest  prohibition.  Echnida  is  de- 
rived from  the  All-mother,  the  mother  Earth,  Gaea,  who, 
with  Tartaros,  the  personified  underworld  (the  place  of 
horrors),  brought  her  forth.  Echnida  herself  is  the 
mother  of  all  terrors,  of  the  Chimaera,  Scylla,  Gorgo,  of 
the  horrible  Cerberus,  of  the  Nemean  Lion,  and  of  the 
eagle  who  devoured  the  liver  of  Prometheus;  besides  this 
she  gave  birth  to  a  number  of  dragons.  One  of  her  sons 
is  Orthrus,  the  dog  of  the  monstrous  Geryon,  who  was 
killed  by  Hercules.  With  this  dog,  her  son,  Echnida,  in 
incestuous  intercourse,  produced  the  Sphinx.  These  ma- 
terials will  suffice  to  characterize  that  amount  of  libido 
which  led  to  the  Sphinx  symbol.  If,  in  spite  of  the  lack 
of  subjective  material,  we  may  venture  to  draw  an  Infer- 
ence from  the  Sphinx  symbol  of  our  author,  we  must  say 
that  the  Sphinx  represents  an  original  incestuous  amount 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      205 

of  libido  detached  from  the  bond  to  the  mother.  Per- 
haps it  is  better  to  postpone  this  conclusion  until  we  have 
examined  the  following  visions. 

After  Miss  Miller  had  concentrated  herself  again,  the 
vision  developed  further: 

"  Suddenly  an  Aztec  appeared,  absolutely  clear  in  every  detail; 
the  hands  spread  open,  with  large  fingers,  the  head  in  profile, 
armored,  headdress  similar  to  the  feather  ornaments  of  the  Amer- 
ican Indian.  The  whole  was  somewhat  suggestive  of  Mexican 
sculpture." 

The  ancient  Egyptian  character  of  the  Sphinx  is  re- 
placed here  by  American  antiquity — by  the  Aztec.  The 
essential  idea  is  neither  Egypt  nor  Mexico,  for  the  two 
could  not  be  interchanged;  but  it  is  the  subjective  factor 
which  the  dreamer  produces  from  her  own  past.  I  have 
frequently  observed  in  the  analysis  of  Americans  that 
certain  unconscious  complexes,  i.e.  repressed  sexuality, 
are  represented  by  the  symbol  of  a  Negro  or  an  Indian; 
for  example,  when  a  European  tells  in  his  dream,  "  Then 
came  a  ragged,  dirty  Individual,"  for  Americans  and  for 
those  who  live  in  the  tropics  it  is  a  Negro.  When  with 
Europeans  it  is  a  vagabond  or  a  criminal,  with  Americans 
it  is  a  Negro  or  an  Indian  which  represents  the  indi- 
vidual's own  repressed  sexual  personality,  and  the  one 
considered  inferior.  It  is  also  desirable  to  go  into  the 
particulars  of  this  vision,  as  there  are  various  things 
worthy  of  notice.  The  feather  cap,  which  naturally  had 
to  consist  of  eagles'  feathers,  is  a  sort  of  magic  charm. 
The  hero  assumes  at  the  same  time  something  of  the  sun- 
like character  of  this  bird  when  he  adorns  himself  with 


2o6       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

its  feathers,  just  as  the  courage  and  strength  of  the  enemy 
are  appropriated  in  swallowing  his  heart  or  taking  his 
scalp.  At  the  same  time,  the  feather  crest  is  a  crown 
which  is  equivalent  to  the  rays  of  the  sun.  The  historical 
importance  of  the  Sun  identification  has  been  seen  in  the 
first  part.^^ 

Especial  interest  attaches  to  the  hand,  which  is  de- 
scribed as  "  open,"  and  the  fingers,  which  are  described 
as  "  large."  It  is  significant  that  it  is  the  hand  upon  which 
the  distinct  emphasis  falls.  One  might  rather  have  ex- 
pected a  description  of  the  facial  expression.  It  Is  well 
known  that  the  gesture  of  the  hand  is  significant;  unfor- 
tunately, we  know  nothing  about  that  here.  Nevertheless, 
a  parallel  phantasy  might  be  mentioned,  which  also  puts 
the  emphasis  upon  hands.  A  patient  In  a  hypnagogic 
condition  saw  his  mother  painted  on  a  wall,  like  a  painting 
in  a  Byzantine  church.  She  held  one  hand  up,  open  wide, 
with  fingers  spread  apart.  The  fingers  were  very  large, 
swollen  Into  knobs  on  the  ends,  and  each  surrounded  by 
a  small  halo.  The  immediate  association  with  this  pic- 
ture was  the  fingers  of  a  frog  with  sucking  discs  at  the 
ends.  Then  the  similarity  to  the  penis.  The  ancient  set- 
ting of  this  mother  picture  is  also  of  importance.  Evi- 
dently the  hand  had,  in  this  phantasy,  a  phallic  meaning. 
This  interpretation  was  confirmed  by  a  further  very 
remarkable  phantasy  of  the  same  patient.  He  saw  some- 
thing like  a  "  sky-rocket "  ascending  from  his  mother's 
hand,  which  at  a  closer  survey  becomes  a  shining  bird 
with  golden  wings,  a  golden  pheasant,  as  it  then  occurs 
to  his  mind.    We  have  seen  in  the  previous  chapter  that 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS'  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO     207 

the  hand  has  actually  a  phallic,  generative  meaning,  and 
that  this  meaning  plays  a  great  part  in  the  production 
of  fire.  In  connection  with  this  phantasy,  there  is  but  one 
observation  to  make:  fire  was  bored  with  the  hand;  there- 
fore it  comes  from  the  hand;  Agni,  the  fire,  was  wor- 
shipped as  a  golden-winged  bird.^"  It  is  extremely  sig- 
nificant that  it  is  the  mother's  hand.  I  must  deny  myself 
the  temptation  to  enter  more  deeply  into  this.  Let  it  be 
sufficient  to  have  pointed  out  the  possible  significance  of 
the  hand  of  the  Aztec  by  means  of  these  parallel  hand 
phantasies.  We  have  mentioned  the  mother  suggestively 
with  the  Sphinx.  The  Aztec  taking  the  place  of  the 
Sphinx  points,  through  his  suggestive  hand,  to  parallel 
phantasies  in  which  the  phallic  hand  really  belongs  to  the 
mother.  Likewise  we  encounter  an  antique  setting  in 
parallel  phantasies.  The  significance  of  the  antique, 
which  experience  has  shown  to  be  the  symbol  for  "  infan- 
tile," is  confirmed  by  Miss  Miller  in  this  connection  in  the 
annotation  to  her  phantasies,  for  she  says : 

"  In  my  childhood,  I  took  a  special  interest  in  the  Aztec  frag- 
ments and  in  the  history  of  Peru  and  of  the  Incas." 

Through  the  two  analyses  of  children  which  have  been 
published  we  have  attained  an  insight  into  the  child's 
small  world,  and  have  seen  what  burning  interests  and 
questions  secretly  surround  the  parents,  and  that  the  par- 
ents are,  for  a  long  time,  the  objects  of  the  greatest  in- 
terest.^'' We  are,  therefore,  justified  in  suspecting  that 
the  antique  setting  applies  to  the  "  ancients,"  that  is  to 
say,  the  parents,  and  that  consequently  this  Aztec  has 


2o8       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

something  of  the  father  or  mother  in  himself.  Up  to  this 
time  indirect  hints  point  only  to  the  mother,  which  is 
nothing  remarkable  in  an  American  girl,  because  Ameri- 
cans, as  a  result  of  the  extreme  detachment  from  the 
father,  are  characterized  by  a  most  enormous  mother 
complex,  which  again  is  connected  with  the  especial  social 
position  of  woman  in  the  United  States.  This  position 
brings  about  a  special  masculinity  among  capable  women, 
which  easily  makes  possible  the  symbolizing  into  a  mas- 
culine figure." 

After  this  vision.  Miss  Miller  felt  that  a  name  formed 
itself  "  bit  by  bit,"  which  seemed  to  belong  to  this  Aztec — 
"  the  son  of  an  Inca  of  Peru."  The  name  is  "  Chi-wan- 
to-pel."  As  the  author  intimated,  something  similar  to 
this  belonged  to  her  childish  reminiscences.  The  act  of 
naming  is,  like  baptism,  something  exceedingly  important 
for  the  creation  of  a  personality,  because,  since  olden 
times,  a  magic  power  has  been  attributed  to  the  name, 
with  which,  for  example,  the  spirit  of  the  dead  can  be 
conjured.  To  know  the  name  of  any  one  means,  in 
mythology,  to  have  power  over  that  one.  As  a  well-known 
example  I  mention  the  fairy  tale  of  "  Rumpelstilzchen." 
In  an  Egyptian  myth,  Isis  robs  the  Sun  god  Re  perma- 
nently of  his  power  by  compelling  him  to  tell  her  his  real 
name.  Therefore,  to  give  a  name  means  to  give  power, 
invest  with  a  definite  personality.^^  The  author  observed, 
in  regard  to  the  name  itself,  that  it  reminded  her  very 
much  of  the  impressive  name  Popocatepetl,  a  name  which 
belongs  to  unforgettable  school  memories,  and,  to  the 
greatest  indignation  of  the  patient,  very  often  emerges 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      209 

in  an  analysis  in  a  dream  or  phantasy  and  brings  with  it 
that  same  old  joke  which  one  heard  in  school,  told  one- 
self and  later  again  forgot.  Although  one  might  hesitate 
to  consider  this  unhallowed  joke  as  of  psychologic  im- 
portance, still  one  must  inquire  for  the  reason  of  its  being. 
One  must  also  put,  as  a  counter  question,  Why  is  it  always 
Popocatepetl  and  not  the  neighboring  Iztaccihuatl,  or 
the  even  higher  and  just  as  clear  Orizaba?  The  last  has 
certainly  the  more  beautiful  and  more  easily  pronounced 
name.  Popocatepetl  is  impressive  because  of  its  onoma- 
topoetic  name.  In  English  the  word  is  "  to  pop  "  (pop- 
gun), which  is  here  considered  as  onomatopoesy;  in  Ger- 
man the  words  are  Hinterpommern,  Pumpernickel; 
Bombe;  Petarde  (le  pet  =  flatus) .  The  frequent  German 
word  Popo  (Podex)  does  not  indeed  exist  in  English, 
but  flatus  is  designated  as  "  to  poop  "  in  childish  speech. 
The  act  of  defecation  is  often  designated  as  "  to  pop." 
A  joking  name  for  the  posterior  part  is  "  the  bum." 
(Poop  also  means  the  rear  end  of  a  ship.)  In  French, 
poiifl  is  onomatopoetic;  poufer  =  platzen  (to  explode), 
la  poiipe  =  rear  end  of  ship,  le  poupard  =  the  baby  in 
arms,  la  poiipee  =  doll.  Poiipon  is  a  pet  name  for  a 
chubby-faced  child.  In  Dutch  pop,  German  Puppe  and 
Latin  piippis  =  doll ;  in  Plautus,  however,  it  is  also  used 
jokingly  for  the  posterior  part  of  the  body;  pupus  means 
child;  piipula  =  girl,  little  dollie.  The  Greek  word 
7ro7T7ivS,co  designates  a  cracking,  snapping  or  blowing 
sound.  It  is  used  of  kissing;  by  Theocritus  also  of  the  as- 
sociated noise  of  flute  blowing.  The  etymologic  parallels 
show  a  remarkable  relationship  between  the  part  of  the 


210       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

body  In  question  and  the  child.  This  relationship  we  will 
mention  here,  only  to  let  it  drop  at  once,  as  this  question 
will  claim  our  attention  later. 

One  of  my  patients  in  his  childhood  had  always  con- 
nected the  act  of  defecation  with  a  phantasy  that  his  pos- 
terior was  a  volcano  and  a  violent  eruption  took  place, 
explosion  of  gases  and  gushlngs  forth  of  lava.  The 
terms  for  the  elemental  occurrences  of  nature  are 
originally  not  at  all  poetical;  one  thinks,  for  example,  of 
the  beautiful  phenomenon  of  the  meteor,  which  the  Ger- 
man language  most  unpoetically  calls  "  Sternschnuppe  " 
(the  smouldering  wick  of  a  star).  Certain  South  Ameri- 
can Indians  call  the  shooting  star  the  "  urine  of  the  stars." 
According  to  the  principle  of  the  least  resistance,  expres- 
sions are  taken  from  the  nearest  source  available.  (For 
example,  the  transference  of  the  metonymic  expression 
of  urination  as  Schijfens,  "  to  rain.") 

Now  it  seems  to  be  very  obscure  why  the  mystical 
figure  of  Chlwantopel,  whom  Miss  Miller,  in  a  note, 
compares  to  the  control  spirit  of  the  spiritualistic  me- 
dium,^^  is  found  in  such  a  disreputable  neighborhood  that 
his  nature  (name)  was  brought  Into  relation  with  this 
particular  part  of  the  body.  In  order  to  understand  this 
possibility,  we  must  realize  that  when  we  produce  from 
the  unconscious  the  first  to  be  brought  forth  is  the  infan- 
tile material  long  lost  in  memory.  One  must,  therefore, 
take  the  point  of  view  of  that  time  in  which  this  infantile 
material  was  still  on  the  surface.  If  now  a  much-honored 
object  is  related  in  the  unconscious  to  the  anus,  then  one 
must  conclude  that  something  of  a  high  valuation  was 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO     211 

expressed  thereby.  The  question  is  only  whether  this 
corresponds  to  the  psychology  of  the  child.  Before  we 
enter  upon  this  question,  it  must  be  stated  that  the  anal 
region  is  very  closely  connected  with  veneration.  One 
thinks  of  the  traditional  faeces  of  the  Great  Mogul.  An 
Oriental  tale  has  the  same  to  say  of  Christian  knights, 
who  anointed  themselves  with  the  excrement  of  the  pope 
and  cardinals  in  order  to  make  themselves  formidable. 
A  patient  who  is  characterized  by  a  special  veneration 
for  her  father  had  a  phantasy  that  she  saw  her  father 
sitting  upon  the  toilet  in  a  dignified  manner,  and  people 
going  past  greeted  him  effusively.^^  The  association  of 
the  anal  relations  by  no  means  excludes  high  valuation  or 
esteem,  as  is  shown  by  these  examples,  and  as  is  easily 
seen  from  the  intimate  connection  of  faeces  and  gold.^^ 
Here  the  most  worthless  comes  into  the  closest  relation 
with  the  most  valuable.  This  also  happens  in  religious 
valuations.  I  discovered  (at  that  time  to  my  great  aston- 
ishment) that  a  young  patient,  very  religiously  trained, 
represented  in  a  d/eam  the  Crucified  on  the  bottom  of  a 
blue-flowered  chamber  pot,  namely,  in  the  form  of  excre- 
ments. The  contrast  is  so  enormous  that  one  must  assume 
that  the  valuations  of  childhood  must  indeed  be  very 
different  from  ours.  This  is  actually  the  truth.  Children 
bring  to  the  act  of  defecation  and  the  products  of  this 
an  esteem  and  interest  ^^  which  later  on  is  possible  only 
to  the  hypochondriac.  We  do  not  comprehend  this  in- 
terest until  we  learn  that  the  child  very  early  connects 
with  it  a  theory  of  propagation.-"  The  libido  afflux  prob- 
ably accounts  for  the  enormous  interest  in  this  act.    The 


212      THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO 

child  sees  that  this  is  the  way  in  which  something  is  pro- 
duced, in  which  something  comes  out.  The  same  child 
whom  I  reported  in  the  little  brochure  "  Uber  Konflicte 
der  kindlichen  Seele,"  and  who  had  a  well-developed  anal 
theory  of  birth,  like  little  Hans,  whom  Freud  made  known 
to  us,  later  contracted  a  habit  of  staying  a  long  time  on 
the  toilet.  Once  the  father  grew  impatient,  went  to  the 
toilet  and  called,  "  Do  come  out  of  there;  what  are  you 
making?  "  Whereupon  the  answer  came  from  within, 
"  A  little  wagon  and  two  ponies."  The  child  was  making 
a  little  wagon  and  two  ponies,  that  is  to  say,  things  which 
at  that  time  she  especially  wished  for.  In  this  way  one 
can  make  what  one  wishes,  and  the  thing  made  is  the 
thing  wished  for.  The  child  wishes  earnestly  for  a  doll 
or,  at  heart,  for  a  real  child.  (That  is,  the  child  prac- 
tised for  his  future  biological  task,  and  in  the  way  in 
which  everything  in  general  is  produced  he  made  the 
doll  -^  himself  as  representative  of  the  child  or  of  the 
thing  wished  for  in  general."')  From  a  patient  I  have 
learned  a  parallel  phantasy  of  her  childhood.  In  the 
toilet  there  was  a  crevice  in  the  wall.  She  phantasied  that 
from  this  crevice  a  fairy  would  come  out  and  present 
her  with  everything  for  which  she  wished.  The  "  locus  " 
is  known  to  be  the  place  of  dreams  where  much  was 
wished  for  and  created  which  later  would  no  longer  be 
suspected  of  having  this  place  of  origin.  A  pathological 
phantasy  in  place  here  is  told  us  by  Lombroso,-^  concern- 
ing two  insane  artists.  Each  of  them  considered  himself 
God  and  the  ruler  of  the  world.  They  created  or  pro- 
duced the  world  by  making  it  come  forth  from  the  rectum, 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      213 

just  as  the  egg  of  birds  originates  in  the  egg  canal.  One 
of  these  two  artists  was  endowed  with  a  true  artistic 
sense.  He  painted  a  picture  in  which  he  was  just  in  the 
act  of  creation;  the  world  came  forth  from  his  anus;  the 
membrum  was  in  full  erection;  he  was  naked,  surrounded 
by  women,  and  with  all  insignia  of  his  power.  The  excre- 
ment is  in  a  certain  sense  the  thing  wished  for,  and  on  that 
account  it  receives  the  corresponding  valuation.  When  I 
first  understood  this  connection,  an  observation  made 
long  ago,  and  which  disturbed  me  greatly  because  I  never 
rightly  understood  it,  became  clear  to  me.  It  concerned 
an  educated  patient  who,  under  very  tragic  circumstances, 
had  to  be  separated  from  her  husband  and  child,  and  was 
brought  into  the  insane  asylum.  She  exhibited  a  typical 
apathy  and  slovenliness  which  was  considered  as 
affective  mental  deterioration.  Even  at  that  time  I 
doubted  this  deterioration,  and  was  inclined  to  regard 
it  as  a  secondary  adjustment.  I  took  especial  pains  to 
ascertain  how  I  could  discover  the  existence  of  the  affect 
in  this  case.  Finally,  after  more  than  three  hours'  hard 
work,  I  succeeded  in  finding  a  train  of  thought  which  sud- 
denly brought  the  patient  into  a  completely  adequate  and 
therefore  strongly  emotional  state.  At  this  moment  the 
affective  connection  with  her  was  completely  reestab- 
lished. That  happened  in  the  forenoon.  When  I  re- 
turned at  the  appointed  time  in  the  evening  to  the  ward  to 
see  her  she  had,  for  my  reception,  smeared  herself  from 
head  to  foot  with  excrement,  and  cried  laughingly,  "  Do  I 
please  you  so?  "  She  had  never  done  that  before;  it  was 
plainly  destined  for  me.    The  impression  which  I  received 


214       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

was  one  of  a  personal  affront  and,  as  a  result  of 
this,  I  v/as  convinced  for  years  after  of  the  affective  de- 
terioration of  such  cases.  Now  we  understand  this  act 
as  an  infantile  ceremony  of  welcome  or  a  declaration  of 
love. 

The  origin  of  Chiwantopel,  that  is  to  say,  an  uncon- 
scious personality,  therefore  means,  in  the  sense  of  the 
previous  explanation,  "  I  make,  produce,  invent  him  my- 
self." It  is  a  sort  of  human  creation  or  birth  by  the  anal 
route.  The  first  people  were  made  from  excrement,  pot- 
ter's earth,  or  clay.  The  Latin  lutum,  which  really  means 
"  moistened  earth,"  also  has  the  transferred  meaning  of 
dirt.  In  Plautus  it  is  even  a  term  of  abuse,  something 
like  "  You  scum."  The  birth  from  the  anus  also  reminds 
us  of  the  motive  of  "  throwing  behind  oneself."  A  well- 
known  example  is  the  oracular  command,  which  Deu- 
calion and  Pyrrha,  who  were  the  only  survivors  from  the 
great  flood,  received.  They  were  to  throw  behind  them 
the  bones  of  the  great  mother.  They  then  threw  behind 
them  stones,  from  which  mankind  sprang.  According  to 
a  tradition,  the  Dactyli  in  a  similar  manner  sprang  from 
dust,  which  the  nymph  Anchiale  threw  behind  her.  There 
is  also  humorous  significance  attached  to  the  anal  prod- 
ucts. The  excrements  are  often  considered  in  popular 
humor  as  a  monument  or  memorial  (which  plays  a  special 
part  in  regard  to  the  criminal  in  the  form  of  grumns 
merda)  ;  every  one  knows  the  humorous  story  of  the  man 
who,  led  by  the  spirit  through  labyrinthian  passages  to  a 
hidden  treasure,  after  he  had  shed  all  his  pieces  of  cloth- 
ing, deposited  excrement  as  a  last  guide  post  on  his  road. 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      215 

In  a  more  distant  past  a  sign  of  this  kind  possessed  as 
great  a  significance  as  the  dung  of  animals  to  indicate 
the  direction  taken.  Simple  monuments  ("little  stone 
figures  ")  have  taken  the  place  of  this  perishable  mark. 

It  is  noteworthy  that  Miss  Miller  quotes  another  case, 
where  a  name  suddenly  obtruded  itself,  parallel  to  the 
emerging  into  consciousness  of  Chiwantopel,  namely,  A-ha- 
ma-ra-ma,  with  the  feeling  that  it  dealt  with  something 
Assyrian.-*  As  a  possible  source  of  this,  there  occurred 
to  her  "  Asurabama,  who  made  cuneiform  bricks,"  ^^ 
those  imperishable  documents  made  from  clay:  the  monu- 
ments of  the  most  ancient  history.  If  it  were  not  empha- 
sized that  the  bricks  are  "  cuneiform,"  then  it  might  mean 
ambiguously  "  wedged-shaped  bricks,"  which  is  more 
suggestive  of  our  interpretation  than  that  of  the 
author. 

Miss  Miller  remarks  that  besides  the  name  "  Asura- 
bama "  she  also  thought  of  "  Ahasuerus  "  or  "  Ahasve- 
rus."  This  phantasy  leads  to  a  very  different  aspect  of 
the  problem  of  the  unconscious  personality.  While  the 
previous  materials  betrayed  to  us  something  of  the  infan- 
tile theory  of  creation,  this  phantasy  opens  up  a  vista  into 
the  dynamics  of  the  unconscious  creation  of  personality. 
Ahasver  is,  as  is  well  known,  the  Wandering  Jew;  he  is 
characterized  by  endless  and  restless  wanderings  until  the 
end  of  the  world.  The  fact  that  the  author  has  thought 
of  this  particular  name  justifies  us  in  following  this  trail. 
The  legend  of  Ahasver,  the  first  literary  traces  of  which 
belong  to  the  thirteenth  century,  seems  to  be  of  Occidental 
origin,  and  belongs  to  those  ideas  which  possess  inde- 


2i6       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

structlble  vital  energy.  The  figure  of  the  Wandering  Jew 
has  undergone  more  literary  elaboration  than  the  figure 
of  Faust,  and  nearly  all  of  this  work  belongs  to  the  last 
century.  If  the  figure  is  not  called  Ahasver,  still  it  is  there 
under  another  name,  perhaps  as  Count  of  St.  Germain, 
the  mysterious  Rosicrucian,  whose  immortality  was  as- 
sured, and  whose  temporary  residence  (the  land)  was 
equally  known.^^  Although  the  stories  about  Ahasver 
cannot  be  traced  back  any  earlier  than  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury, the  oral  tradition  can  reach  back  considerably 
further,  and  it  is  not  an  impossibility  that  a  bridge  to  the 
Orient  exists.  There  is  the  parallel  figure  of  Chidr,  or 
"  al  Chadir,"  the  "  ever-youthful  Chidher  "  celebrated  in 
song  by  Rueckert.  The  legend  is  purely  Islamitic.  The 
peculiar  feature,  however,  is  that  Chidher  is  not  only  a 
saint,  but  in  Sufic  circles  "  rises  even  to  divine  significance. 
In  view  of  the  severe  monotheism  of  Islam,  one  is  in- 
clined to  think  of  Chidher  as  a  pre-Islamitic  Arabian 
divinity  who  would  hardly  be  officially  recognized  by  the 
new  religion,  but  might  have  been  tolerated  on  political 
grounds.  But  there  is  nothing  to  prove  that.  The  first 
traces  of  Chidher  are  found  in  the  commentaries  of  the 
Koran,  Buchari  and  Tabare  and  in  a  commentary  to  a 
noteworthy  passage  of  the  eighteenth  sura  of  the  Koran. 
The  eighteenth  sura  is  entitled  "  the  cave,"  that  is,  after 
the  cave  of  the  seven  sleepers,  who,  according  to  the 
legend,  slept  there  for  309  years,  and  thus  escaped  perse- 
cution, and  awoke  in  a  new  era.  Their  legend  is  re- 
counted in  the  eighteenth  sura,  and  divers  reflections  were 
associated  with  it.    The  wish-fulfilment  idea  of  the  legend 


I 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO     tl^ 

is  very  clear.  The  mystic  material  for  it  is  the  immutable 
model  of  the  Sun's  course.  The  Sun  sets  periodically, 
but  does  not  die.  It  hides  in  the  womb  of  the  sea  or  in  a 
subterranean  cave,-^  and  in  the  morning  is  "  born  again," 
complete.  The  language  in  which  this  astronomic  occur- 
rence is  clothed  is  one  of  clear  symbolism;  the  Sun  returns 
into  the  mother's  womb,  and  after  some  time  is  again 
born.  Of  course,  this  event  is  properly  an  incestuous 
act,  of  which,  in  mythology,  clear  traces  are  still  re- 
tained, not  the  least  of  which  is  the  circumstance  that  the 
dying  and  resurrected  gods  are  the  lovers  of  their  own 
mothers  or  have  generated  themselves  through  their  own 
mothers.  Christ  as  the  "  God  becoming  flesh  "  has  gen- 
erated himself  through  Mary;  Mithra  has  done  the 
same.  These  Gods  are  unmistakable  Sun-gods,  for  the 
Sun  also  does  this,  in  order  to  again  renew  himself. 
Naturally,  it  is  not  to  be  assumed  that  astronomy  came 
first  and  these  conceptions  of  gods  afterwards;  the  process 
was,  as  always,  inverted,  and  it  is  even  true  that  primitive 
magic  charms  of  rebirth,  baptism,  superstitious  usages 
of  all  sorts,  concerning  the  cure  of  the  sick,  etc.,  were 
projected  into  the  heavens.  These  youths  were  born 
from  the  cave  (the  womb  of  mother  earth),  like  the  Sun- 
gods,  in  a  new  era,  and  this  was  the  way  they  vanquished 
death.  In  this  far  they  were  immortal.  It  is  now  inter- 
esting to  see  how  the  Koran  comes,  after  long  ethical 
contemplations  in  the  course  of  the  same  sura,  to  the  fol- 
lowing passage,  which  is  of  especial  significance  for  the 
origin  of  the  Chidher  myth.  For  this  reason  I  quote 
*Jie  Koran  literally: 


2i8       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

"  Remember  when  Moses  said  to  his  servant,  '  I  will  not  stop 
till  I  reach  the  confluence  of  the  two  seas,  or  for  eighty  years  will 
I  journey  on.' 

"  But  when  they  reached  their  confluence  they  forgot  their 
fish,  and  it  took  its  way  in  the  sea  at  will. 

"  And  when  they  had  passed  on,  Moses  said  to  his  servant, 
*  Bring  us  our  morning  meal,  for  now  we  have  incurred  weariness 
from  this  our  journey.' 

"  He  said,  '  What  thinkest  thou  ?  When  we  repaired  to  the 
rock  for  rest,  then  verily  I  forgot  the  fish;  and  none  but  Satan 
made  me  forget  it,  so  as  not  to  mention  it;  and  it  hath  taken  its 
way  in  the  sea  in  a  wondrous  sort.' 

"  He  said,  '  It  is  this  we  were  in  quest  of.'  So  they  both  went 
back  retracing  their  footsteps. 

"  Then  found  they  one  of  our  servants  to  whom  we  had  vouch- 
safed our  mercy,  and  whom  we  had  instructed  with  our'  knowl- 

1  28 

edge ; 

"  Moses  said  to  him,  '  Shall  I  follow  thee  that  thou  teach  me, 
for  guidance  of  that  which  thou  hast  been  taught  ? ' 

"  He  said,  '  Verily,  thou  canst  by  no  means  have  patience  with 
me ;  and  how  canst  thou  be  patient  in  matters  whose  meaning  thou 
comprehendest  not?'" — Trans.  Rodwell,  page  i88. 

Moses  now  accompanies  the  mysterious  servant  of  God, 
who  does  divers  things  which  Moses  cannot  comprehend; 
finally,  the  Unknown  takes  leave  of  Moses,  and  speaks  to 
him  as  follows: 

"They  will  ask  thee  of  Dhoulkarnein  (the  two-horned ).°"' 
Say :  *  I  will  recite  to  you  an  account  of  him.' 

"  Verily,  we  established  his  power  upon  the  earth  and  we  gave 
him  a  means  to  accomplish  every  end,  so  he  followed  his  way; 

"  Until  when  he  reached  the  setting  of  the  sun,  he  found  it 
to  set  in  a  miry  forest;  and  hard  by,  he  found  a  people.  .  .  ." 

Now  follows  a  moral  reflection ;  then  the  narrative  con- 
tinues : 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      219 

"  Then  he  followed  his  course  further  until  he  came  to  the  place 
where  the  sun  rises.  .  .  ." 

If  now  we  wish  to  know  who  is  the  unknown  servant 
of  God,  we  are  told  in  this  passage  he  is  Dhulqarnein, 
Alexander,  the  Sun;  he  goes  to  the  place  of  setting  and 
he  goes  to  the  place  of  rising.  The  passage  about  the 
unknown  servant  of  God  is  explained  by  the  commentaries 
in  a  well-defined  legend.  The  servant  is  Chidher,  "  the 
verdant  one,"  the  never-tiring  wanderer,  who  roams  for 
hundreds  and  thousands  of  years  over  lands  and  seas,  the 
teacher  and  counsellor  of  pious  men;  the  one  wise  in 
divine  knowledge — the  immortal.''^  The  authority  of  the 
Tabari  associates  Chidher  with  Dhulqarnein;  Chidher  is 
said  to  have  reached  the  "  stream  of  life  "  as  a  follower 
of  Alexander,  and  both  unwittingly  had  drunk  of  it,  so 
that  they  became  immortal.  Moreover,  Chidher  is  iden- 
tified by  the  old  commentators  with  Elias,  who  also  did 
not  die,  but  who  was  taken  to  Heaven  in  a  fiery  chariot. 
Elias  is  Helios:'-  It  is  to  be  observed  that  Ahasver  also 
owes  his  existence  to  an  obscure  place  in  the  holy  Christian 
scriptures.  This  place  is  to  be  found  in  Matthew  xvi :  28. 
First  comes  the  scene  where  Christ  appoints  Peter  as  the 
rock  of  his  church,  and  nominates  him  the  governor  of 
his  power."^  After  that  follows  the  prophecy  of  his 
death,  and  then  comes  the  passage : 

"  Verily,  I  say  unto  you,  there  be  some  standing  here,  which 
shall  not  taste  of  death  till  they  see  the  Son  of  Man  coming  in  his 
kingdom." 

Here  follows  the  scene  of  the  transfiguration: 


220       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

"  And  was  transfigured  before  them :  and  his  face  did  shine 
as  the  sun,  and  his  raiment  was  white  as  the  light. 

"  And  behold  there  appeared  unto  them  Moses  and  Elias  talk- 
ing with  him. 

"  Then  answered  Peter  and  said  unto  Jesus,  *  Lord,  it  is  good 
for  us  to  be  here ;  if  thou  wilt,  let  us  make  here  three  tabernacles ; 
one  for  thee  and  one  for  Moses  and  one  for  Elias.'  "  ^* 

From  these  passages  it  appears  that  Christ  stands  on 
the  same  plane  as  Elias,  without  being  identified  with 
him,'^  although  the  people  consider  him  as  Elias.  The 
ascension  places  Christ  as  identical  with  Elias.  The 
prophecy  of  Christ  shows  that  there  exist  aside  from 
himself  one  or  more  immortals  who  shall  not  die  until 
Parousai.  According  to  John  xxi  :22nd  verse,  the  boy 
John  was  considered  as  one  of  these  immortals,  and  in 
the  legend  he  is,  in  fact,  not  dead  but  merely  sleeping 
in  the  ground  until  Parousai,  and  breathes  so  that  the 
dust  swirls  round  his  grave. ^"^  As  is  evident,  there  are 
passable  bridges  from  Christ  by  way  of  Elias  to  Chidher 
and  Ahasuerus.  It  is  said  in  an  account  of  this  legend  " 
that  Dhulqarnein  led  his  friend  Chidher  to  the  "  source 
of  life  "  in  order  to  have  him  drink  of  immortality.^^ 
Alexander  also  bathed  in  the  stream  of  life  and  per- 
formed the  ritual  ablutions.  As  I  previously  mentioned  in 
a  footnote,  according  to  Matthew  xvii:  12th  verse,  John 
the  Baptist  Is  Elias,  therefore  primarily  identical  with 
Chidher.  Now,  however,  it  is  to  be  noted  that  in  the 
Arabian  legend  Chidher  appears  rather  as  a  companion 
or  accompanied  (Chidher  with  Dhulqarnein  or  with  Ellas, 
"  like  unto  them  " ;  or  identified  with  them  ^^) .  There  are 
therefore,  two  similar  figures  who  resemble  each  other, 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      221 

but  who,  nevertheless,  are  distinct.  The  analogous  situ- 
ation in  the  Christian  legend  is  found  in  the  scene  by 
the  Jordan  where  John  leads  Christ  to  the  "  source  of 
life."  Christ  is  there,  the  subordinate,  John  the  superior, 
similar  to  Dhulqarnein  and  Chidher,  or  Chidher  and 
Moses,  also  Elias.  The  latter  relation  especially  is  such 
that  VoUers  compares  Chidher  and  Elias,  on  the  one 
side,  with  Gilgamesh  and  his  mortal  brother  Eabani; 
on  the  other  side,  with  the  Dioscuri,  one  of  whom  is  im- 
mortal, the  other  mortal.  This  relation  is  also  found  in 
Christ  and  John  the  Baptist,*"  on  the  one  hand,  and  Christ 
and  Peter,  on  the  other.  The  last-named  parallel  only 
finds  its  explanation  through  comparison  with  the  Mith- 
raic  mysteries,  where  the  esoteric  contents  are  revealed 
to  us  through  monuments.  Upon  the  MIthraic  marble 
relief  of  Klagenfurt*^  it  is  represented  how  with  a  halo 
Mithra  crowns  Helios,  who  either  kneels  before  him  or 
else  floats  up  to  him  from  below.  Mithra  is  represented 
on  a  Mithraic  monument  of  Osterburken  as  holding  in 
his  right  hand  the  shoulder  of  the  mystic  ox  above  Helios, 
who  stands  bowed  down  before  him,  the  left  hand  rest- 
ing on  a  sword  hilt.  A  crown  lies  between  them  on  the 
ground.  Cumont  observes  about  this  scene  that  it  prob- 
ably represents  the  divine  prototype  of  the  ceremony  of 
the  initiation  into  the  degree  of  Miles,  in  which  a  sword 
and  a  crown  were  conferred  upon  the  mystic.  Helios  is, 
therefore,  appointed  the  Miles  of  Mithra.  In  a  general 
way,  Mithra  seems  to  occupy  the  role  of  patron  to  Helios, 
which  reminds  us  of  the  boldness  of  Hercules  towards 
Helios.    Upon  his  journey  towards  Geryon,  Helios  burns 


222       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

too  hotly;  Hercules,  full  of  anger,  threatens  him  with  his 
never-failing  arrows.  Therefore,  Helios  is  compelled  to 
yield,  and  lends  to  the  hero  his  Sun  ship,  with  which  he 
was  accustomed  to  journey  across  the  sea.  Thus  Hercules 
returns  to  Erythia,  to  the  cattle  herds  of  Geryon.*-  On 
the  monument  at  Klagenfurt,  Mithra  is  furthermore  rep- 
resented pressing  Helios's  hand,  either  in  farewell  or  as 
a  ratification.  In  a  further  scene  Mithra  mounts  the 
Chariot  of  Helios,  either  for  the  ascension  or  the  "  Sea 
Journey."  ^"  Cumont  is  of  the  opinion  that  Mithra  gives 
to  Helios  a  sort  of  ceremonious  investiture  and  conse- 
crates him  with  his  divine  power  by  crowning  him  with 
his  own  hands.  This  relation  corresponds  to  that  of 
Christ  to  Peter.  Peter,  through  his  symbol,  the  cock,  has 
the  character  of  a  sun-god.  After  the  ascension  (or 
sea  journey)  of  Christ,  he  is  the  visible  pontiff  of  the 
divinity;  he  suffers,  therefore,  the  same  death  (cruci- 
fixion) as  Christ,  and  becomes  the  great  Roman 
deity  {Sol  invicttts),  the  conquering,  triumphant  Church 
itself,  embodied  in  the  Pope.  In  the  scene  of  Malchus 
he  is  always  shown  as  the  miles  of  Christ,  to  whom  the 
sword  is  granted,  and  as  the  rock  upon  which  the  Church 
is  founded.  The  crown  **  is  also  given  to  him  who  pos- 
sesses the  power  to  bind  and  to  set  free.  Thus,  Christ, 
like  the  Sun,  is  the  visible  God,  whereas  the  Pope,  like 
the  heir  of  the  Roman  Caesars,  is  soils  invicti  comes. 
The  setting  sun  appoints  a  successor  whom  he  invests 
with  the  power  of  the  sun.^^  Dhulqarnein  gives  Chidher 
eternal  life.  Chidher  communicates  his  wisdom  to 
Moses."*^    There  even  exists  a  report  according  to  which 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO     223 

the  forgetful  servant  of  Joshua  drinks  from  the  well  of 
life,  whereupon  he  becomes  immortal,  and  is  placed  in  a 
ship  by  Chidher  and  Moses,  as  a  punishment,  and  is  cast 
out  to  sea,  once  more  a  fragment  of  a  sun  myth,  the 
motive  of  the  "  sea  journey."  *^ 

The  primitive  symbol,  which  designates  that  portion 
of  the  Zodiac  in  which  the  Sun,  with  the  Winter  Solstice, 
again  enters  upon  the  yearly  course,  is  the  goat,  fish  sign, 
the  aiycojiepco?.  The  Sun  mounts  like  a  goat  to  the 
highest  mountain,  and  later  goes  into  the  water  as  a  fish. 
The  fish  is  the  symbol  of  the  child,*®  for  the  child  before 
his  birth  lives  in  the  water  like  a  fish,  and  the  Sun,  because 
it  plunges  into  the  sea,  becomes  equally  child  and  fish. 
The  fish,  however,  is  also  a  phallic  symbol,*'^  also  a  sym- 
bol for  the  woman. ^^  Briefly  stated,  the  fish  is  a  libido 
symbol,  and,  indeed,  as  it  seems  predominately  for  the 
renewal  of  the  libido. 

The  journey  of  Moses  with  his  servant  is  a  life-journey 
(eighty  years).  They  grow  old  and  lose  their  life  force 
(libido),  that  is,  they  lose  the  fish  which  "pursues  its 
course  in  a  marvellous  manner  to  the  sea,"  which  means 
the  setting  of  the  sun.  When  the  two  notice  their  loss, 
they  discover  at  the  place  where  the  "  source  of  life  "  is 
found  (where  the  dead  fish  revived  and  sprang  into  the 
sea)  Chidher  wrapped  in  his  mantle, ^^  sitting  on  the 
ground.  According  to  another  version,  he  sat  on  an 
island  in  the  sea,  or  "  in  the  wettest  place  on  earth,"  that 
is,  he  was  just  born  from  the  maternal  depths.  Where 
the  fish  vanished  Chidher,  "  the  verdant  one,"  was  born 
as  a  "  son  of  the  deep  waters,"  his  head  veiled,  a  Cabir, 


224       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

a  proclaimer  of  divine  wisdom;  the  old  Babylonian 
Oannes-Ea,  who  was  represented  in  the  form  of  a  fish, 
and  daily  came  from  the  sea  as  a  fish  to  teach  the  people 
wisdom. ^^  His  name  was  brought  into  connection  with 
John's.  With  the  rising  of  the  renewed  sun  all  that  lived 
in  darkness,  as  water-animal  or  fish,  surrounded  by  all 
terrors  of  night  and  death, ^'^  became  as  the  shining  fiery 
firmament  of  the  day.  Thus  the  words  of  John  the  Bap- 
tist ^*  gain  especial  meaning: 

"  I  indeed  baptize  you  with  water  unto  repentance,  but  he  that 
Cometh  after  me  is  mightier  than  I,  whose  shoes  I  am  not  worthy 
to  bear;  he  shall  baptize  you  with  the  Holy  Ghost  and  with  fire." 

With  Vollers  we  may  also  compare  Chidher  and  Elias 
(Moses  and  his  servant  Joshua)  with  Gilgamesh  and 
his  brother  Eabani.  Gilgamesh  wandered  through  the 
world,  driven  by  anxiety  and  longing,  to  find  immortality. 
His  path  led  him  across  the  seas  to  the  wise  Utnapishtim 
(Noah),  who  knew  how  to  cross  the  waters  of  death. 
There  Gilgamesh  had  to  dive  down  to  the  bottom  of  the 
sea  for  the  magical  herb  which  was  to  lead  him  back  to 
the  land  of  men.  When  he  had  come  again  to  his  native 
land  a  serpent  stole  the  magic  plant  from  him  (the  fish 
again  slid  into  the  sea).  But  on  the  return  from  the 
land  of  the  blessed  an  immortal  mariner  accompanied 
him,  who,  banished  by  a  curse  of  Utnapishtim,  was  for- 
bidden to  return  to  the  land  of  the  blessed.  Gilgamesh's 
journey  had  lost  its  purpose  on  account  of  the  loss  of  the 
magic  herb;  instead  he  is  accompanied  by  an  immortal, 
whose  fate,  indeed,  we  cannot  learn  from  the  fragments 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      225 

of  the  epic.     This  banished  immortal  is  the  model  for 
Ahasver,  as  Jensen  ^^  aptly  remarked. 

Again  we  encounter  the  motive  of  the  Dioscuri,  mortal 
and  immortal,  setting  and  rising  sun.  This  motive  is  also 
represented  as  if  projected  from  the  hero. 

The  Sacrificium  Mithriacum  (the  sacrifice  of  the  bull) 
is  in  its  religious  representation  very  often  flanked  by 
the  two  Dadophores,  Cautes  and  Cautopates,  one  with 
a  raised  and  the  other  with  a  lowered  torch.  They  repre- 
sent brothers  who  reveal  their  character  through  the  sym- 
bolic position  of  the  torch.  Cumont  connects  them,  not 
without  meaning,  with  the  sepulchral  "  erotes  "  who  as 
genii  with  the  reversed  torches  have  traditional  meaning. 
The  one  is  supposed  to  stand  for  death  and  the  other  for 
life.  I  cannot  refrain  from  mentioning  the  similarity  be- 
tween the  Sacrificium  Mithriacum  (where  the  sacrificed 
bull  in  the  centre  is  flanked  on  both  sides  by  Dadophores) 
to  the  Christian  sacrifice  of  the  lamb  (ram).  The 
Crucified  is  also  traditionally  flanked  by  the  two  thieves, 
one  of  whom  ascends  to  Paradise,  while  the  other  de- 
scends to  Hell.^^  The  idea  of  the  mortal  and  the  im- 
mortal seems  to  have  passed  also  into  the  Christian 
worship.  Semitic  gods  are  often  represented  as  flanked 
by  two  Paredroi;  for  example,  Baal  of  Edessa,  accom- 
panied by  Aziz  and  Monimoz  (Baal  as  the  Sun,  accom- 
panied by  Mars  and  Mercury,  as  expressed  in  astro- 
nomical teachings).  According  to  the  Chaldean  view, 
the  gods  are  grouped  into  triads.  In  this  circle  of  ideas 
belongs  also  the  Trinity,  the  idea  of  the  triune  God,  in 
which  Christ  must  be  considered  in  his  unity  with  the 


226       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost.  So,  too,  do  the  two  thieves 
belong  Inwardly  to  Christ.  The  two  Dadophores  are,  as 
Cumont  points  out,  nothing  but  offshoots  ^^  from  the  chief 
figure  of  Mithra,  to  whom  belongs  a  mysterious  three- 
fold character.  According  to  an  account  of  Dionysus 
Areopagita,  the  magicians  celebrated  a  festival,  "tov 
tpinXaaiov  MWpov."  *  ^*  An  observation  likewise  refer- 
ring to  the  Trinity  is  made  by  Plutarch  concerning  Or- 
muzd :  rpl?  eavrov  avStjo'cv?  aTreGTjjGs  tov  t/Xiov.f  The 
Trinity,  as  three  different  states  of  the  unity,  is  also  a 
Christian  thought.  In  the  very  first  place  this  suggests 
a  sun  myth.  An  observation  by  Macrobius  i :  i8  seems  to 
lend  support  to  this  idea  : 

"  Hse  autem  aetatum  diversitates  ad  solem  referuntur,  ut  par- 
vulus  videatur  hiemali  solstitio,  qualem  Aegyptii  proferunt  ex 
adyto  die  certa,  .  .  .  aequinoctio  vernali  figura  iuvenis  ornatur. 
Postea  statuitur  setas  ejus  plenissima  effigie  barbae  solstitio  aestivo 
.  .  .  exunde  per  diminutiones  veluti  senescent!  quarta  forma  deus 
figuratur."  %  " 

As  Cumont  observes,  Cautes  and  Cautapates  occasion- 
ally carry  in  their  hands  the  head  of  a  bull,  and  a  scor- 
pion."" Taurus  and  Scorpio  are  equinoctial  signs,  which 
clearly  indicate  that  the  sacrificial  scene  refers  primarily 
to  the  Sun  cycle;  the  rising  Sun,  which  sacrifices  itself  at 

*0f  the  threefold   Mithra. 

t  Having  expanded  himself  threefold,  he  departed  from  the  sun. 

t  Now  these  differences  in  the  seasons  refer  to  the  Sun,  which  seems  at 
the  winter  solstice  an  infant,  such  as  the  Egyptians  on  a  certain  day  bring 
out  of  their  sanctuaries;  at  the  vernal  equinox  it  is  represented  as  a  youth. 
Later,  at  the  summer  solstice,  its  age  is  represented  by  a  full  growth  of 
beard,  while  at  the  last,  the  god  is  represented  by  the  gradually  diminish- 
ing form  of  an  old  man. 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      227 

the  summer  solstice,  and  the  setting  Sun.  In  the  sacri- 
ficial scene  the  symbol  of  the  rising  and  setting  Sun  was 
not  easily  represented;  therefore,  this  idea  was  removed 
from  the  sacrificial  image. 

We  have  pointed  out  above  that  the  Dioscuri  represent 
a  similar  idea,  although  in  a  somewhat  different  form; 
the  one  sun  is  always  mortal,  the  other  immortal.  As 
this  entire  sun  mythology  is  merely  a  psychologic  pro- 
jection to  the  heavens,  the  fundamental  thesis  probably  is 
as  follows;  just  as  man  consists  of  a  mortal  and  immortal 
part,  so  the  sun  is  a  pair  of  brothers, "^^  one  being  mortal, 
the  other  immortal.  This  thought  lies  at  the  basis  of  all 
theology  in  general.  Man  is,  indeed,  mortal,  but  there 
are  some  who  are  immortal,  or  there  is  something  in  us 
which  is  immortal.  Thus  the  gods,  "  a  Chldher  or  a  St. 
Germain,"  are  our  immortal  part,  which,  though  incom- 
prehensible, dwells  among  us  somewhere. 

Comparison  with  the  sun  teaches  us  over  and  over 
again  that  the  gods  are  libido.  It  is  that  part  of  us 
which  is  immortal,  since  it  represents  that  bond  through 
which  we  feel  that  in  the  race  we  are  never  extinguished.*^^ 
It  is  life  from  the  life  of  mankind.  Its  springs,  which  well 
up  from  the  depths  of  the  unconscious,  come,  as  does  our 
life  in  general,  from  the  root  of  the  whole  of  humanity, 
since  we  are  indeed  only  a  twig  brol^en  off  from  the 
mother  and  transplanted. 

Since  the  divine  in  us  is  the  libido, ^^  we  must  not  won- 
der that  we  have  taken  along  with  us  in  our  theology 
ancient  representations  from  olden  times,  which  give  the 
triune  figure  to  the  God.    We  have  taken  this  rpinXaaiov 


228       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

6s6v*  from  the  phallic  symbolism,  the  originality  of 
which  may  well  be  uncontested/*  The  male  genitals  are 
the  basis  for  this  Trinity.  It  is  an  anatomical  fact  that 
one  testicle  is  generally  placed  somewhat  higher  than 
the  other,  and  it  is  also  a  very  old,  but,  nevertheless, 
still  surviving,  superstition  that  one  testicle  generates  a 
boy  and  the  other  a  girl.*'^  A  late  Babylonian  bas-relief 
from  Lajard's  ^^  collection  seems  to  be  in  accordance  with 
this  view.  In  the  middle  of  the  image  stands  an  androgy- 
nous god  (masculine  and  feminine  face*^^);  upon  the 
right,  male  side,  is  found  a  serpent,  with  a  sun  halo  round 
its  head;  upon  the  left,  female  side,  there  is  also  a  ser- 
pent, with  the  moon  above  its  head.  Above  the  head  of 
the  god  there  are  three  stars.  This  ensemble  would  seem 
to  confirm  the  Trinity  "^^  of  the  representation.  The  Sun 
serpent  at  the  right  side  is  male;  the  serpent  at  the  left 
side  is  female  (signified  by  the  moon).  This  image  pos- 
sesses a  symbolic  sexual  suffix,  which  makes  the  sexual 
significance  of  the  whole  obtrusive.  Upon  the  male  side 
a  rhomb  is  found — a  favorite  symbol  of  the  female  geni- 
tals; upon  the  female  side  there  is  a  wheel  or  felly.  A 
wheel  always  refers  to  the  Sun,  but  the  spokes  are  thick- 
ened and  enlarged  at  the  ends,  which  suggests  phaUic 
symbolism.  It  seems  to  be  a  phallic  wheel,  which  was 
not  unknown  in  antiquity.  There  are  obscene  bas-reliefs 
where  Cupid  turns  a  wheel  of  nothing  but  phalli.*^®  It  is 
not  only  the  serpent  which  suggests  the  phallic  significance 
of  the  Sun;  I  quote  one  especially  marked  case,  from  an 
abundance  of  proof.    In  the  antique  collection  at  Verona 

*  Threefold  God. 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      229 

I  discovered  a  late  Roman  mystic  inscription  in  which  are 
the  following  representations : 

■.    !  / 

—  Oc- 

These  symbols  are  easily  read:  Sun — Phallus,  Moon — 
Vagina  (Uterus).  This  interpretation  is  confirmed  by 
another  figure  of  the  same  collection.  There  the  same 
representation  is  found,  only  the  vessel  ^°  is  replaced  by 
the  figure  of  a  woman.  The  impressions  on  coins,  where 
in  the  middle  a  palm  is  seen  encoiled  by  a  snake,  flanked 
by  two  stones  (testicles),  or  else  in  the  middle  a  stone 
encircled  by  a  snake;  to  the  right  a  palm,  to  the  left  a 
shell  (female  genitals  ^^),  should  be  interpreted  in  a 
similar  manner.  In  Lajard's  "  Researches  "  ("  The  Cult 
of  Venus  ")  there  is  a  coin  of  Perga,  where  Artemis  of 
Perga  is  represented  by  a  conical  stone  (phallic)  flanked 
by  a  man  (claimed  to  be  Men)  and  by  a  female  figure 
(claimed  to  be  Artemis).  Men  (the  so-called  Lunus)  is 
found  upon  an  Attic  bas-relief  apparently  with  the  spear 
but  fundamentally  a  sceptre  with  a  phallic  significance, 
flanked  by  Pan  with  a  club  (phallus)  and  a  female 
figure.''^  The  traditional  representation  of  the  Crucified 
flanked  by  John  and  Mary  is  closely  associated  with  this 
circle  of  ideas,  precisely  as  is  the  Crucified  with  the 
thieves.  From  this  we  see  how,  beside  the  Sun,  there 
emerges  again  and  again  the  much  more  primitive  com- 


230       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

parison  of  the  libido  with  the  phallus.  An  especial  trace 
still  deserves  mention  here.  The  Dadophor  Cautapates, 
who  represents  Mithra,  is  also  represented  with  the  cock  "^ 
and  the  pineapple.  But  these  are  the  attributes  of  the 
Phrygian  god  Men,  whose  cult  was  widely  diffused.  Men 
was  represented  with  Pileus/*  the  pineapple  and  the  cock, 
also  in  the  form  of  a  boy,  just  as  the  Dadophores  are 
boyish  figures.  (This  last-named  property  relates  them 
with  Men  to  the  Cabiri.)  Men  has  a  very  close  connec- 
tion with  Attis,  the  son  and  lover  of  Cybele.  In  the  time 
of  the  Roman  Caesars,  Men  and  Attis  were  entirely  iden- 
tified, as  stated  above.  Attis  also  wears  the  Pileus  like 
Men,  Mithra  and  the  Dadophores.  As  the  son  and  lover 
of  his  mother  he  again  leads  us  to  the  source  of  this 
religion-creating  incest  libido,  namely,  to  the  mother. 
Incest  leads  logically  to  ceremonial  castration  In  the 
Attic-Cybele  cult,  for  the  Hero,  driven  insane  by  his 
mother,  mutilates  himself."^^  I  must  at  present  forego 
entering  more  deeply  into  this  matter,  because  the  incest 
problem  is  to  be  discussed  at  the  close.  Let  this  sugges- 
tion suffice — that  from  different  directions  the  analysis 
of  the  libido  symbolism  always  leads  back  again  to  the 
mother  incest.  Therefore,  we  may  surmise  that  the  long- 
ing of  the  libido  raised  to  God  (repressed  into  the  un- 
conscious) is  a  primitive,  incestuous  one  which  concerns 
the  mother.  Through  renouncing  the  virility  to  the  first 
beloved,  the  mother,  the  feminine  element  becomes  ex- 
tremely predominant;  hence  the  strongly  androgynous 
character  of  the  dying  and  resurrected  Redeemer.  That 
these  heroes  are  nearly  always  wanderers  ''^  is  a  psycho- 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO      231 

logically  clear  symbolism.  The  wandering  is  a  repre- 
sentation of  longing,'^  of  the  ever-restless  desire,  which 
nowhere  finds  its  object,  for,  unknown  to  itself,  it  seeks 
the  lost  mother.  The  wandering  association  renders  the 
Sun  comparison  easily  intelligible;  also,  under  this  aspect, 
the  heroes  always  resemble  the  wandering  Sun,  which 
seems  to  justify  the  fact  that  the  myth  of  the  hero  is  a 
sun  myth.  Bu^the  myth  of  the  hero,  however,  is,  as  it 
appears  to  me,  the  myth  of  our  own  suffering  uncon- 
scious, which  has  an  unquenchable  longing  for  all  the 
deepest  sources  of  our  own  beingV  for  the  body  of  the 
mother,  and  through  it  for  comrjiunion  with  infinite  life 
in  the  countless  forms  of  existence.  Here  I  must  intro- 
duce the  words  of  the  Master  who  has  divined  the  deep- 
est roots  of  Faustian  longings : 

"  Unwilling,  I  reveal  a  loftier  mystery. — 
In  solitude  are  throned  the  Goddesses, 
No  Space  around  them,  Place  and  Time  still  less: 
Only  to  speak  of  them  embarrasses. 
They  are  THE  MOTHERS! 

"  Goddesses  unknown  to  ye, 
The  Mortals, — named  by  us  unwillingly. 
Delve  in  the  deepest  depths  must  thou  to  reach  them: 
'Tis  thine  own  fault  that  we  for  help  beseech  them. 

"  Where  is  the  way? 

"No  way!     To  the  Unreachable, 
Ne'er  to  be  trodden!     A  way  to  the  Unbeseechable, 
Never  to  be  besought !    Art  thou  prepared  ? 
There  are  no  locks,  no  latches  to  be  lifted! 
Through  endless  solitudes  shalt  thou  be  drifted! 
Hast  thou  through  solitudes  and  deserts  dared? 


232       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

And  hadst  thou  swum  to  farthest  verge  of  ocean 
And  there  the  boundless  space  beheld, 
Still  hadst  thou  seen  wave  after  wave  in  motion, 
Even  though  impending  doom  thy  fear  compelled. 
Thou  hadst  seen  something — in  the  beryl  dim 
Of  peace-lulled  seas,  the  sportive  dolphins  swim ; 
Hadst  seen  the  flying  clouds,  sun,  moon  and  star; 
Nought  shalt  thou  see  in  endless  Void  afar — 
Not  hear  thy  footstep  fall,  nor  meet 
A  stable  spot  to  rest  thy  feet. 

"  Here,  take  this  key! 
The  Key  will  scent  the  true  place  from  all  others; 
Follow  it  down !     'Twill  lead  thee  to  the  Mothers. 

"  Descend  then !     I  could  also  say :  Ascend ! 
'Twere  all  the  same.     Escape  from  the  Created 
To  shapeless  forms  in  liberated  spaces! 
Enjoy  what  long  ere  this  was  dissipated! 
There  whirls  the  press,  like  clouds  on  clouds  unfolding; 
Then  with  stretched  arm  swing  high  the  key  thou'rt  holding! 

"  At  last  a  blazing  tripod, ^^  tells  thee  this. 
That  there  the  utterly  deepest  bottom  is. 
Its  light  to  thee  will  then  the  Mothers  show. 
Some  in  their  seats,  the  others  stand  or  go. 
At  their  own  will:  Formation,  Transformation, 
The  Eternal  Mind's  eternal  recreation. 
Forms  of  all  Creatures, — there  are  floating  free. 
They'll  see  thee  not!  for  oftly  wraiths  they  see. 
So  pluck  up  heart, — the  danger  then  is  great. 
Go  to  the  tripod  ere  thou  hesitate, 
And   touch   it  with   the  key." 


CHAPTER  V 

SYMBOLISM  OF  THE  MOTHER  AND  OF 
REBIRTH 

The  vision  following  the  creation  of  the  hero  is  de- 
scribed by  Miss  Miller  as  a  "  throng  of  people."  This 
representation  is  known  to  us  from  dream  interpretation 
as  being,  above  all,  the  symbol  of  mystery.^  Freud 
thinks  that  this  choice  of  symbol  is  determined  on  ac- 
count of  its  possibility  of  representing  the  idea.  The 
bearer  of  the  mystery  is  placed  in  opposition  to  the  multi- 
tude of  the  ignorant.  The  possession  of  the  mystery  cuts 
one  of  from  intercourse  with  the  rest  of  mankind.  For 
a  very  complete  and  smooth  rapport  with  the  surround- 
ings is  of  great  importance  for  the  management  of  tH'e->v.^^^ 
libido  and  the  possession  of  a  subjectively  important  y/f^ 
secret  generally  creates  a  great  disturbance.     It  may  be  '^L 

said  that  the  whole  art  of  life  shrinks  to  the  one  problem  Y 

of  how  the  libido  may  be  freed  in  the  most  harmless  way 
possible.  Therefore,  the  neurotic  derives  special  benefit 
in  treatment  when  he  can  at  last  rid  himself  of  his  various 
secrets.  The  symbol  of  the  crowd  of  people,  chiefly  the 
streaming  and  moving  mass,  is,  as  I  have  often  seen, 
substituted  for  the  great  excitement  in  the  unconscious, 
especially  in  persons  who  are  outwardly  calm. 

233 


234       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

The  vision  of  the  "throng"  develops  further;  horses 
emerge;  a  battle  is  fought.  With  Silberer,  I  might  accept 
the  significance  of  this  vision  as  belonging,  first  of  all,  in 
the  "  functional  category,"  because,  fundamentally,  the 
conception  of  the  intermingling  crowds  is  nothing  but  the 
symbol  of  the  present  onrush  of  the  mass  of  thought; 
likewise  the  battle,  and  possibly  the  horses,  which  illus- 
trate the  movement.  The  deeper  significance  of  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  horses  will  be  seen  for  the  first  time  in 
the  further  course  of  our  treatment  of  the  mother  sym- 
bolism. The  following  vision  has  a  more  definite  and 
significantly  important  character.  Miss  Miller  sees  a 
City  of  Dreams  ("Cite  de  Reves").  The  picture  is 
similar  to  one  she  saw  a  short  time  before  on  the  cover 
of  a  magazine.  Unfortunately,  we  learn  nothing  further 
about  it.  One  can  easily  imagine  under  this  "  Cite  de 
Reves  "  a  fulfilled  wish  dream,  that  is  to  say,  something 
very  beautiful  and  greatly  longed  for;  a  sort  of  heavenly 
Jerusalem,  as  the  poet  of  the  Apocalypse  has  dreamed  it. 
The  city  is  a  maternal  symbol,  a  woman  who  fosters  the 
inhabitants  as  children.  It  is,  therefore,  intelligible  that 
the  two  mother  goddesses,  Rhea  and  Cybele,  both 
wear  the  wall  crown.  The  Old  Testament  treats  the 
cities  of  Jerusalem,  Babel,  etc.,  as  women  (Isaiah 
xlvii:  1-5)  : 

"  Come  down  and  sit  in  the  dust,  O  virgin  daughter  of  Babylon, 
sit  on  the  ground:  there  fs  no  throne,  O  daughter  of  the  Chal- 
deans ;  for  thou  shalt  no  more  be  called  tender  and  delicate.  Take 
the  millstones  and  grind  meal;  uncover  thy  locks,  make  bare  the 
leg,  uncover  the  thigh,  pass  over  the  rivers.     That  thy  nakedness 


I 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    235 

shall  be  uncovered,  yea,  thy  shame  shall  be  seen;  sit  thou  silent, 
and  get  thee  into  darkness,  O  daughter  of  the  Chaldeans;  for 
thou  shalt  no  more  be  called  the  lady  of  the  kingdoms." 

Jeremiah  says  of  Babel  (I:  12)  : 

"  Your  mother  shall  be  sore  confounded ;  she  that  bare  you  shall 
be  ashamed." 

Strong,  unconquered  cities  are  virgins;  colonies  are 
sons  and  daughters.  Cities  are  also  whores.  Isaiah  says 
of  Tyre  (xxiii :  16)  : 

"  Take  an  harp,  go  about  the  city,  thou  harlot;  thou  hast  been 
forgotten." 

And: 

"  How  does  it  come  to  pass  that  the  virtuous  city  has  become 

an  harlot?  " 

We  come  across  a  similar  symbolism  in  the  myth  of 
Ogyges,  the  mythical  king  who  rules  in  Egyptian  Thebes 
and  whose  wife  was  appropriately  named  Thebe.  The 
Boeotian  Thebes  founded  by  Cadmus  received  on  that 
account  a  surname,  "  Ogygian."  This  surname  was  also 
given  to  the  great  flood,  as  it  was  called  "  Ogygian  "  be- 
cause it  occurred  under  Ogyges.  This  coincidence  will  be 
found  later  on  to  be  hardly  accidental.  The  fact  that 
the  city  and  the  wife  of  Ogyges  bear  the  same  name  indi- 
cates that  somewhere  a  relation  must  exist  between  the 
city  and  the  woman,  which  is  not  difficult  to  understand, 
for  the  city  is  identical  with  the  woman.  We  meet  a 
similar  idea  in  Hindoo  lore  where  Indra  appears  as  the 


236       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

husband  of  Urvara,  but  Urvara  means-  "  the  fertile 
land."  In  a  similar  way  the  occupancy  of  a  country  by 
the  king  was  understood  as  marriage  with  the  ploughed 
land.  Similar  representations  must  have  prevailed  in 
Europe  as  well.  Princes  had  to  guarantee,  for  example, 
a  good  harvest  at  their  accession.  The  Swedish  King 
Domaldi  was  actually  killed  on  account  of  the  failure  of 
the  harvest  (Ynghnga  saga  i8).  In  the  Rama  saga  the 
hero  Rama  marries  Sita,  the  furrow  of  the  field.^  To 
the  same  group  of  ideas  belongs  the  Chinese  custom  of 
the  Emperor  ploughing  a  furrow  at  his  ascension  to  the 
throne.  This  idea  of  the  soil  being  feminine  also  em- 
braces the  idea  of  continual  companionship  with  the 
woman,  a  physical  communication.  Shiva,  the  Phallic 
God,  is,  like  Mahadeva  and  Parwati,  male  and  female. 
He  has  even  given  one-half  of  his  body  to  his  consort 
Parwati  as  a  dwelling  place. ^  Inman  *  gives  us  a  drawing 
of  a  Pundite  of  Ardanari-Iswara;  one-half  of  the  god 
is  masculine,  the  other  half  feminine,  and  the  genitals 
are  in  continuous  cohabitation.  The  motive  of  continu- 
ous cohabitation  is  expressed  in  a  well-known  lingam 
symbol,  which  is  to  be  found  everywhere  in  Indian 
temples;  the  base  is  a  female  symbol,  and  within  that  is 
the  phallus.^  The  symbol  approaches  very  closely  the 
Grecian  mystic  phallic  basket  and  chests,  (Compare  with 
this  the  Eleusinian  mysteries.)  The  chest  or  box  is  here 
a  female  symbol,  that  is,  the  mother's  womb.  This  is  a 
very  well-known  conception  in  the  old  mythologies.®  The 
chest,  basket  or  little  basket,  with  its  precious  contents, 
was  thought  of  as  floating  on  the  water;  a  remarkable 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH     237 

inversion  of  the  natural  fact  that  the  child  floats  in  the 
amniotic  fluid  and  that  this  is  in  the  uterus. 

This  inversion  brings  about  a  great  advantage  for  sub- 
limation, for  it  creates  enormous  possibilities  of  appli- 
cation for  the  myth-weaving  phantasy,  that  is  to  say,  for 
the  annexation  to  the  sun  cycle.  The  Sun  floats  over  the 
sea  like  an  immortal  god,  which  every  evening  is  im- 
mersed in  the  maternal  water  and  is  born  again  renewed 
in  the  morning.     Frobenius  says : 

"  Perhaps  in  connection  with  the  blood-red  sunrise,  the  idea 
occurs  that  here  a  birth  takes  place,  the  birth  of  a  young  son ;  the 
question  then  arises  inevitably,  whence  comes  the  paternity?  How 
has  the  woman  become  pregnant?  And  since  this  woman  sym- 
bolizes the  same  idea  as  the  fish,  which  means  the  sea,  (because 
we  proceed  from  the  assumption  that  the  Sun  descends  into  the 
sea  as  well  as  arises  from  it)  thus  the  curious  primitive  answer 
is  that  this  sea  has  previously  swallowed  the  old  Sun.  Conse- 
quently the  resulting  myth  is,  that  the  woman  (sea)  has  formerly 
devoured  the  Sun  and  now  brings  a  new  Sun  into  the  world,  and 
thus  she  has  become  pregnant." 

All  these  sea-going  gods  arQ  sun  symbols.  They  are 
enclosed  in  a  chest  or  an  ark  for  the  "  night  journey  on 
the  sea"  (Frobenius),  often  together  with  a  woman 
(again  an  inversion  of  the  actual  situation,  but  in  sup- 
port of  the  motive  of  continuous  cohabitation,  which  we 
have  met  above).  During  the  night  journey  on  the  sea 
the  Sun-god  is  enclosed  in  the  mother's  womb,  often- 
times threatened  by  dangers  of  all  kinds.  Instead  of 
many  individual  examples,  I  will  content  myself  with  re- 


238       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

producing  the  scheme  which  Frobenius  has  constructed 
from  numberless  myths  of  this  sort : 


r  Heat-hair 
^~^^~^--^^^^  ^-^^         I  To  land 


rr,      ,  ^^" ^  J   To  slip  out 

^°  ^^^°"^  C:  Z^  ]    To   open 


'movement—  (sea  journey) 


Frobenius  gives  the  following  legend  to  illustrate  this : 

"A  hero  is  devoured  by  a  water  monster  in  the  West  (to 
devour).  The  animal  carries  him  within  him  to  the  East  (sea 
journey).  Meanwhile,  he  kindles  a  fire  in  the  belly  of  the 
monster  (to  set  on  fire)  and  since  he  feels  hungry  he  cuts  off  a  piece 
of  the  hanging  heart  (to  cut  off  the  heart).  Soon  after  he  notices 
that  the  fish  glides  upon  the  dry  land  (to  land)  ;  he  immediately 
begins  to  cut  open  the  animal  from  within  outwards  (to  open) 
then  he  slides  out  (to  slip  out).  In  the  fish's  belly,  it  had  been 
so  hot,  that  all  his  hair  had  fallen  out  (heat-hair).  The  hero 
frequently  frees  all  who  were  previously  devoured  (to  devour  all) 
and  all  now  slide  out  (slip  out)." 

A  very  close  parallel  is  Noah's  journey  during  the 
flood,  in  which  all  living  creatures  die;  only  he  and  the  life 
guarded  by  him  are  brought  to  a  new  birth.  In  a  Mela- 
polynesian  legend  (Frobenius)  it  is  told  that  the  hero  in 
the  belly  of  the  King  Fish  took  his  weapon  and  cut  open 
the  fish's  belly,  "  He  slid  out  and  saw  a  splendor,  and 
he  sat  down  and  reflected.  '  I  wonder  where  I  am,'  he 
said.     Then  the  sun  rose  with  a  bound  and  turned  from 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    239 

one  side  to  the  other."  The  Sun  has  again  slipped  out. 
Frobenius  mentions  from  the  Ramayana  the  myth  of 
the  ape  Hanuman,  who  represents  the  Sun-hero.  The 
sun  in  which  Hanuman  hurries  through  the  air  throws  a 
shadow  upon  the  sea.  The  sea  monster  notices  this  and 
through  this  draws  Hanuman  toward  itself ;  when  the  latter 
sees  that  the  monster  is  about  to  devour  him,  he  stretches 
out  his  figure  immeasurably;  the  monster  assumes  the 
same  gigantic  proportions.  As  he  does  that  Hanuman 
becomes  as  small  as  a  thumb,  slips  into  the  great  body 
of  the  monster  and  comes  out  on  the  other  side.  In  an- 
other part  of  the  poem  it  is  said  that  he  came  out  from 
the  right  ear  of  the  monster  (like  Rabelais'  Gargantua, 
who  also  was  born  from  the  mother's  ear).  "  Hanuman 
thereupon  resumes  his  flight,  and  finds  a  new  obstacle  in 
another  sea  monster,  which  is  the  mother  of  Rahus,  the 
sun-devouring  demon.  The  latter  draws  Hanuman's 
shadow  ^  to  her  in  the  same  way.  Hanuman  again  has 
recourse  to  the  earlier  stratagem,  becomes  small  and  slips 
into  her  body,  but  hardly  is  he  there  than  he  grov/s  to  a 
gigantic  mass,  swells  up,  tears  her,  kills  her,  and  in  that 
way  makes  his  escape." 

Thus  we  understand  why  the  Indian  fire-bringer  Ma- 
taricvan  is  called  "  the  one  swelling  in  the  mother  ";  the 
ark  (little  box,  chest,  cask,  vessel,  etc.)  is  a  symbol  of 
the  womb,  just  as  is  the  sea,  into  which  the  Sun  sinks 
for  rebirth.  From  this  circle  of  ideas  we  understand  the 
mythologic  statements  about  Ogyges;  he  it  Is  who  pos- 
sesses the  mother,  the  City,  who  is  united  with  the  mother; 
'rherefore  under  him  came  the  great  flood,  for  it  is  a 


240       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

typical  fragment  of  the  sun  myth  that  the  hero,  when 
united  with  the  woman  attained  with  difficulty,  is  exposed 
in  a  cask  and  thrown  into  the  sea,  and  then  lands  for  a 
new  life  on  a  distant  shore.  The  middle  part,  the  "  night 
journey  on  the  sea  "  in  the  ark,  is  lacking  in  the  tradition 
of  Ogyges.*^  But  the  rule  in  mythology  is  that  the  typical 
parts  of  a  myth  can  be  united  in  all  conceivable  varia- 
tions, which  adds  greatly  to  the  extraordinary  difficulty 
of  the  interpretation  of  a  particular  myth  without  knowl- 
edge of  all  the  others.  The  meaning  of  this  cycle  of 
myths  mentioned  here  is  clear;  it  is  the  longing  to  attain 
rebirth  through  the  return  to  the  mother's  womb,  that  is 
to  say,  to  become  as  immortal  as  the  sun.  This  longing 
for  the  mother  is  frequently  expressed  in  our  holy  scrip- 
tures.® I  recall,  particularly  the  place  in  the  epistle 
to  the  Galatians,  where  it  is  said  (iv:  26)  : 

(26)  "  But  Jerusalem  which  is  above  is  free,  which  is  the 
mother  of  us  all. 

(27)  "  For  it  is  written,  Rejoice,  thou  barren  that  beareth  not: 
break  forth  and  cry,  thou  that  travailest  not :  for  the  desolate  hath 
many  more  children  than  she  which  hath  an  husband. 

(28)  "  Now  we,  brethren,  as  Isaac  was,  are  the  children  of 
promise. 

(29)  "  But  as  he  that  was  born  after  the  flesh  persecuted  him 
that  was  born  after  the  spirit,  even  so  it  is  now. 

(30)  "  Nevertheless,  what  sayeth  the  scripture?  Cast  out  the 
bondwoman  and  her  son ;  for  the  son  of  a  bondwoman  shall  not 
be  heir  with  the  son  of  a  freewoman. 

(31)  "So,  then,  brethren,  we  are  not  children  of  the  bond- 
woman, but  of  the  free." 

Chapter  v: 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    241 

( 1 )  "  Stand  fast  therefore  in  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ 
has  made  us  free." 

The  Christians  are  the  children  of  the  City  Above,  a 
symbol  of  the  mother,  not  sons  of  the  earthly  city-mother, 
who  is  to  be  cast  out;  for  those  born  after  the  flesh  are 
opposed  to  those  born  after  the  spirit,  who  are  not  born 
from  the  mother  in  the  flesh,  but  from  a  symbol  for 
the  mother.  One  must  again  think  of  the  Indians  at  this 
point,  who  say  the  first  people  proceeded  from  the  sword- 
hilt  and  a  shuttle.  The  religious  thought  is  bound  up  with 
the  compulsion  to  call  the  mother  no  longer  mother,  but 
City,  Source,  Sea,  etc.  This  compulsion  can  be  derived 
from  the  need  to  manifest  an  amount  of  libido  bound  up 
with  the  mother,  but  in  such  a  way  that  the  mother  is 
represented  by  or  concealed  in  a  symbol.  The  symbolism 
of  the  city  we  find  well-developed  in  the  revelations  of 
John,  where  two  cities  play  a  great  part,  one  of  which 
is  insulted  and  cursed  by  him,  the  other  greatly  desired. 
We  read  in  Revelation  (xvii:  i)  : 

(i)  "Come  hither:  I  will  shew  unto  thee  the  judgment  of 
the  great  whore  that  sitteth  on  many  waters. 

(2)  "  With  whom  the  kings  of  the  earth  have  committed  forni- 
cation and  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  have  been  made  drunk 
with  the  wine  of  her  fornication. 

(3)  "  So  he  carried  me  away  in  the  spirit  into  the  wilderness: 
and  I  saw  a  woman  sit  on  a  scarlet  colored  beast,  full  of  the 
names  of  blasphemy,  and  having  seven  heads  and  ten  horns. 

(4)  "  And  the  woman  was  arrayed  in  purple  and  scarlet  colors, 
and  decked  with  gold  and  precious  stones  and  pearls,  having  a 
golden  cup  ^°  in  her  hand  full  of  abominations  and  filthiness  of 
her  fornication. 

(5)  "And  upon  her  forehead  was  a  name  written:  Mystery. 


242       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Babylon  the  great.     The  Mother  of  Harlots    and  Abominations 
of  the  Earth. 

(6)  "  And  I  saw  the  woman  drunken  with  the  blood  of  saints, 
and  with  the  blood  of  the  martyrs  of  Jesus:  and  when  I  saw  her 
I  wondered  with  a  great  admiration." 

Here  follows  an  interpretation  of  the  vision  unintel- 
ligible to  us,  from  which  we  can  only  emphasize  the  point 
that  the  seven  heads  "  of  the  dragon  means  the  seven 
hills  upon  which  the  woman  sits.  This  is  probably  a  dis- 
tinct allusion  to  Rome,  the  city  whose  temporal  power 
oppressed  the  world  at  the  time  of  the  Revelation.  The 
waters  upon  which  the  woman  "  the  mother  "  sits  are 
"  peoples  and  throngs  and  nations  and  tongues."  This 
also  seems  to  refer  to  Rome,  for  she  is  the  mother  of 
peoples  and  possessed  all  lands.  Just  as  in  common 
speech,  for  example,  colonies  are  called  daughters,  so 
the  people  subject  to  Rome  are  like  members  of  a  family 
subject  to  the  mother.  In  another  version  of  the  picture, 
the  kings  of  the  people,  namely,  the  fathers,  commit 
fornication  with  this  mother.  Revelation  continues 
(xviii :  2)  : 

(2)  "  And  he  cried  mightily  with  a  strong  voice,  saying,  Baby- 
lon the  Great  is  fallen,  is  fallen,  and  is  become  the  habitation  of 
devils,  and  the  hold  of  every  foul  spirit,  and  a  cage  of  every 
unclean  and  hateful  bird. 

(3)  "  For  all  nations  have  drunk  of  the  wine  of  the  wrath 
of  her  fornication." 

Thus  this  mother  does  not  only  become  the  mother  of 
all  abominations,  but  also  in  truth  the  receptacle  of  all 
that  is  wicked  and  unclean.     The  birds  are  images  of 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    243 

souls;  ^^  therefore,  this  means  all  souls  of  the  condemned 
and  evil  spirits.  Thus  the  mother  becomes  Hecate,  the 
underworld,  the  City  of  the  damned  itself.  We  recog- 
nize easily  in  the  ancient  idea  of  the  woman  on  the 
dragon,"  the  above-mentioned  representation  of  Echnida, 
the  mother  of  the  infernal  horrors.  Babylon  is  the  idea 
of  the  "  terrible  "  mother,  who  seduces  all  people  to 
whoredom  with  devilish  temptation,  and  makes  them 
drunk  with  her  wine.  The  intoxicating  drink  stands  in 
the  closest  relation  to  fornication,  for  it  is  also  a  libido 
symbol,  as  we  have  already  seen  in  the  parallel  of  fire 
and  sun.  After  the  fall  and  curse  of  Babylon,  we  find  in 
Revelation  (xix:6-7)  the  hymn  which  leads  from  the 
under  half  to  the  upper  half  of  the  mother,  where  now 
everything  is  possible  which  would  be  impossible  without 
the  repression  of  incest: 

(6)  "Alleluia,  the  Lord  God  omnipotent  reigneth. 

(7)  "  Let  us  be  glad  and  rejoice,  and  give  honor  to  him:  for 
the  marriage  of  the  Lamb  is  come,^*  and  his  wife  hath  made 
herself  ready. 

(8)  "And  to  her  was  granted  that  she  should  be  arrayed  in 
fine  linen,  clean  and  white:  for  the  fine  linen  is  the  righteousness 
of  saints. 

(9)  "And  he  saith  unto  me,  'Write,  Blessed  are  they  which 
are  called  unto  the  marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb.'  " 

The  Lamb  is  the  son  of  man  who  celebrates  his  mar- 
riage with  the  "  woman."  Who  the  "  woman  "  is  re- 
mains obscure  at  first.  But  Revelation  (xxi:  9)  shows  us 
which  "  woman  "  is  the  bride,  the  Lamb's  wife: 

(9)  "  Come  hither,  I  will  show  thee  the  bride,  the  Lamb's 
wife.^^ 


244       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

( lo)  "  And  he  carried  me  away  in  the  spirit  to  a  great  and 
high  mountain,  and  showed  me  that  great  city,  the  holy  Jerusalem, 
descending  out  of  heaven  from  God,  having  the  glory  of  God." 

It  is  evident  from  this  quotation,  after  all  that  goes  be- 
fore, that  the  City,  the  heavenly  bride,  who  is  here 
promised  to  the  Son,  is  the  mother.^®  In  Babylon  the 
impure  maid  was  cast  out,  according  to  the  Epistle  to  the 
Galatians,  so  that  here  in  heavenly  Jerusalem  the  mother- 
bride  may  be  attained  the  more  surely.  It  bears  witness 
to  the  most  delicate  psychologic  perception  that  the 
fathers  of  the  church  who  formulated  the  canons  pre- 
served this  bit  of  the  symbolic  significance  of  the  Christ 
mystery.  It  is  a  treasure  house  for  the  phantasies  and 
myth  materials  which  underlie  primitive  Christianity." 
The  further  attributes  which  were  heaped  upon  the  heav- 
enly Jerusalem  make  its  significance  as  mother  over- 
whelmingly clear : 

(i)  "And  he  shewed  me  a  pure  river  of  water  of  life,  clear 
as  crystal,  proceeding  out  of  the  throne  of  God  and  of  the  Lamb. 

(2)  "In  the  midst  of  the  street  of  it,  and  on  either  side  of 
the  river,  was  there  the  tree  of  life,  which  bare  twelve  manner 
of  fruits,  and  yielded  her  fruit  every  month,  and  the  leaves  of 
the  tree  were  for  the  healing  of  nations. 

(3)  "And  there  shall  be  no  more  curse." 

In  this  quotation  we  come  upon  the  symbol  of  the 
waters,  which  we  found  in  the  mention  of  Ogyges  in  con- 
nection with  the  city.  The  maternal  significance  of  water 
belongs  to  the  clearest  symbolism  in  the  realm  of  my- 
thology,^* so  that  the  ancients  could  say:  rj  daXaacja — 
T?/?    yeviaeooi    avfxfidkov.'^    From    water    comes    life;^' 

*The  sea  is  the  symbol  of  birth. 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    245 

therefore,  of  the  two  gods  which  here  interest  us  the  most, 
Christ  and  Mithra,  the  latter  was  born  beside  a  river, 
according  to  representations,  while  Christ  experienced  his 
new  birth  in  the  Jordan;  moreover,  he  is  born  from  the 
^VyV)'^  the  "  sempiterni  fons  amoris,"  the  mother  of 
God,  who  by  the  heathen-Christian  legend  was  made  a 
nymph  of  the  Spring.  The  "  Spring  "  is  also  found  in 
Mithracism.  A  Pannonian  dedication  reads,  "  Fonti 
perenni."  An  inscription  in  Apulia  is  dedicated  to  the 
"  Fons  Aeterni."  In  Persia,  Ardvigura  is  the  well  of  the 
water  of  life.  Ardvigura-Anahita  is  a  goddess  of  water 
and  love  (just  as  Aphrodite  is  born  from  foam).  The 
neo-PersIans  designate  the  Planet  Venus  and  a  nubile  girl 
by  the  name  "  Nahid."  In  the  temples  of  Anaitis  there 
existed  prostitute  Hierodules  (harlots).  In  the  Sakaeen 
(in  honor  of  Anaitis)  there  occurred  ritual  combats  as 
in  the  festival  of  the  Egyptian  Ares  and  his  mother.  In 
the  Vedas  the  waters  are  called  Matritamah — the  most 
maternal.^"  All  that  is  living  rises  as  does  the  sun,  from 
the  water,  and  at  evening  plunges  into  the  water.  Born 
from  the  springs,  the  rivers,  the  seas,  at  death  man  arrives 
at  the  waters  of  the  Styx  in  order  to  enter  upon  the 
"  night  journey  on  the  sea."  The  wish  is  that  the  black 
water  of  death  might  be  the  water  of  life;  that  death, 
with  its  cold  embrace,  might  be  the  mother's  womb,  just 
as  the  sea  devours  the  sun,  but  brings  it  forth  again  out 
of  the  maternal  womb  (Jonah  motive'').  Life  believes 
not  in  death. 

"  In  the  flood  of  life,  in  the  torrent  of  deeds, 
I  toss  up  and  down, 


24-6       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

I  am  blown  to  and  fro! 

Cradle  and  grave, 

An  eternal  sea; 

A  changing  web, 

A  glowing  life."  — Goethe:  Faust. 

That  $vXov  ^coi^?,  the  wood  of  life,  or  the  tree  of  life,  is 
a  maternal  symbol  would  seem  to  follow  from  the  pre- 
vious deductions.  The  etymologic  connection  of  vgo^ 
v\ri,  vioi,  in  the  Indo-Germanic  root  suggests  the  blend- 
ing of  the  meanings  in  the  underlying  symbolism  of 
mother  and  of  generation.  The  tree  of  life  is  probably, 
first  of  all,  a  fruit-bearing  genealogical  tree,  that  is,  a 
mother-image.  Countless  myths  prove  the  derivation  of 
man  from  trees;  many  myths  show  how  the  hero  is  en- 
closed in  the  maternal  tree — thus  dead  Osiris  in  the 
column,  Adonis  in  the  myrtle,  etc.  Numerous  female 
divinities  were  worshipped  as  trees,  from  which  resulted 
the  cult  of  the  holy  groves  and  trees.  It  is  of  transparent 
significance  when  Attis  castrates  himself  under  a  pine 
tree,  i.  e.  he  does  it  because  of  the  mother.  Goddesses 
were  often  worshipped  in  the  form  of  a  tree  or  of  a 
wood.  Thus  Juno  of  Thespiae  was  a  branch  of  a  tree, 
Juno  of  Samos  was  a  board.  Juno  of  Argos  was  a 
column.  The  Carian  Diana  was  an  uncut  piece  of  wood. 
Athene  of  Lindus  was  a  polished  column.  Tertullian 
calls  Ceres  of  Pharos  "  rudis  palus  et  informe  lignum 
sine  effigie."  Athenaeus  remarks  of  Latona  at  Dalos  that 
she  is  ^xikivov  aixopcpov,  a  shapeless  piece  of  wood." 
Tertullian  calls  an  Attic  Pallas  "  crucis  stipes,"  a  wooden 
pale  or  mast.     The  wooden  pale  is  phallic,  as  the  name 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    247 

suggests,  q^aXr}?,  Pallus.  The  cpaWoi  Is  a  pale,  a  cere- 
monial lingam  carved  out  of  figwood,  as  are  all  Roman 
statues  of  Priapus.  ^ctXo?  means  a  projection  or  centre- 
piece on  the  helmet,  later  called  Hcavo?,  just  as  dva- 
cpa\-avTiaGi<i  signifies  baldheadedness  on  the  forepart 
of  the  head,  and  ^^orAarKpo's' signifies  baldheadedness  in  re- 
gard to  the  cpaXoi-HCDvo^  of  the  helmet;  a  semi-phallic 
meaning  is  given  to  the  upper  part  of  the  head  as  well.^* 
^dXXtjvoi  has,  besides  cpaWo^,  the  significance  of 
"  wooden  ^''  \q)a\-dyyGOfxa,''''  cylinder  " ; 9?<^Aar;/^, "  a  round 
beam."  The  Macedonian  battle  array,  distinguished  by 
its  powerful  impetus,  is  called  q)d\ay^^  moreover,  the 
finger-joint  '*  is  called  q)a\ay^.  cpdXkaiv a  or  (pdXaiva 
is  a  whale.  Now  cpaXo'i  appears  with  the  meaning 
"  shining,  brilliant."  The  Indo-Germanic  root  is  hhale 
=  to  bulge,  to  swell. ^^    Who  does  not  think  of  Faust? 

"  It  grows,  it  shines,  Increases  in  my  hand!  " 

That  Is  primitive  libido  symbolism,  which  shows  how 
Immediate  Is  the  connection  between  phallic  libido  and 
light.  The  same  relations  are  found  in  the  Rigveda  in 
Rudra's  utterances. 

Rigveda  i,  114,  3: 

"  May  we  obtain  your  favor,  thou  man  ruling,  Oh  urinating 
Rudra." 

I  refer  here  to  the  previously  mentioned  phallic  sym- 
bolism of  Rudra  in  the  Upanlshads: 

(4)  "  We  call  for  help  below  to  the  flaming  Rudra,  to  the 
one  bringing  the  sacrifice;  him  who  encircles  and  wanders  (wan- 
dering In  the  vault  of  Heaven)  to  the  seer." 


248       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

2,  33,  5: 

"  He  who  opens  up  the  sweet,  who  listens  to  our  calls,  the 
ruddy  one,  with  the  beautiful  helmet,  may  he  not  give  us  over 
to  the  powers  of  jealousy. 

(6)  "I  have  been  rejoiced  by  the  bull  connected  with  Marut, 
the  supplicating  one  with  strong  force  of  life. 

(8)  "  Sound  the  powerful  song  of  praise  to  the  ruddy  bull  to 
the  white  shining  one;  worship  the  flaming  one  with  honor,  we 
sing  of  the  shining  being  Rudra. 

"  May  Rudra's  missile  (arrow)  not  be  used  on  us,  may  the 
great  displeasure  of  the  shining  one  pass  us  by:  Unbend  the  firm 
(bow  or  hard  arrow?)  for  the  princes,  thou  who  blessest  with 
the  waters  of  thy  body  (generative  strength),  be  gracious  to  our 
children  and  grandchildren."  "^ 

In  this  way  we  pass  from  the  realm  of  mother  sym- 
bolism imperceptibly  into  the  realm  of  male  phallic 
symbolism.  This  element  also  lies  in  the  tree,  even  in 
the  family  tree,  as  is  distinctly  shown  by  the  mediaeval 
family  trees.  From  the  first  ancestor  there  grows  up- 
ward, in  the  place  of  the  "  membrum  virile,"  the  trunk 
of  the  great  tree.  The  bisexual  symbolic  character  of  the 
tree  is  intimated  by  the  fact  that  in  Latin  trees  have  a 
masculine  termination  and  a  feminine  gender."  The 
feminine  (especially  the  maternal)  meaning  of  the  forest 
and  the  phallic  significance  of  trees  in  dreams  is  well 
known.    I  mention  an  example. 

It  concerns  a  woman  who  had  always  been  nervous, 
and  who,  after  many  years  of  marriage,  became  ill  as  a 
result  of  the  typical  retention  of  the  libido.  She  had  the 
following  dream  after  she  had  learned  to  know  a  young 
man  of  many  engaging  free  opinions  who  was  very  pleas- 
ing to  her:    She  found  herself  in  a  garden  where  stood 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    249 

a  remarkable  exotic  tree  with  strange  red  fleshy  flowers 
or  fruits.  She  picked  them  and  ate  them.  Then,  to  her 
horror,  she  felt  that  she  was  poisoned.  This  dream  idea 
may  easily  be  understood  by  means  of  the  antique  or 
poetic  symbolism,  so  I  can  spare  information  as  to  the 
analytic  material. 

The  double  significance  of  the  tree  is  readily  explained 
by  the  fact  that  such  symbols  are  not  to  be  understood 
"anatomically"  but  psychologically  as  libido  symbols; 
therefore,  it  is  not  permissible  to  interpret  the  tree  on 
account  of  its  similar  form  as  directly  phallic;  It  can  also 
be  called  a  woman  or  the  uterus  of  the  mother.  The 
uniformity  of  the  significance  lies  alone  in  the  similarity 
to  the  libido. ^^  One  loses  one's  way  In  one  "  cul  de  sac  " 
after  another  by  saying  that  this  is  the  symbol  substituted 
for  the  mother  and  that  for  the  penis.  In  this  realm 
there  is  no  fixed  significance  of  things.  The  only  reality 
here  is  the  libido,  for  which  "  all  that  is  perishable  Is 
merely  a  symbol."  It  is  not  the  physical  actual  mother, 
but  the  libido  of  the  son,  the  object  of  which  was  once 
the  mother.  We  take  mythologic  symbols  much  too  con- 
cretely and  wonder  at  every  step  about  the  endless  con- 
tradictions. These  contradictions  arise  only  because  we 
constantly  forget  that  in  the  realm  of  phantasy  "  feeling 
is  all."  Whenever  we  read,  therefore,  "  his  mother  was 
a  wicked  sorcerer,"  the  translation  is  as  follows:  The 
son  is  In  love  with  her,  namely,  he  is  unable  to  detach  his 
libido  from  the  mother-Imago;  he  therefore  suffers  from 
incestuous  resistance. 

The  symbolism  of  water  and  trees,  which  are  met  with 


250       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

as  further  attributes  in  the  symbol  of  the  City,  also  refer 
to  that  amount  of  libido  which  unconsciously  is  fastened 
to  the  mother-imago.  In  certain  parts  of  Revelation 
the  unconscious  psychology  of  religious  longing  is  re- 
vealed, namely,  the  longing  for  the  mother.^^  The  ex- 
pectation of  Revelation  ends  in  the  mother:  xal  nav 
uaradejjia  ovH  sGtai  i'ri.  ("and  there  shall  be  no  more 
curse  ").  There  shall  be  no  more  sins,  no  repression,  no 
disharmony  with  one's  self,  no  guilt,  no  fear  of  death  and 
no  pain  of  separation  more  ! 

Thus  Revelation  echoes  that  same  radiant  mystical 
harmony  which  was  caught  again  2,000  years  later  and 
expressed  poetically  in  the  last  prayer  of  Dr.  Marianus: 

"  Penitents,  look  up,  elate. 
Where  she  beams  salvation; 
Gratefully  to  blessed  fate 
Grow,  in  recreation! 
Be  our  souls,  as  they  have  been, 
Dedicate  to  thee! 
Virgin   Hol)^   Mother,   Queen, 
Goddess,  gracious  be!"  — Goethe:  Faust. 

One  principal  question  arises  at  the  sight  of  this  beauty 
and  greatness  of  feeling,  that  is,  whether  the  primary 
tendency  compensated  by  religion  is  not  too  narrowly 
understood  as  incestuous.  I  have  previously  observed  In 
regard  to  this  that  I  consider  the  "  resistance  opposed  to 
libido  "  as  in  a  general  way  coincident  with  the  incest  pro- 
hibition. I  must  leave  open  for  the  present  the  definition 
of  the  psychological  Incest  conception.  However,  I  will 
here  emphasize  the  point  that  it  Is  most  especially  the 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    251 

totality  of  the  sun  myth  which  proves  to  us  that  the 
fundamental  basis  of  the  "  incestuous  "  desire  does  not 
aim  at  cohabitation,  but  at  the  special  thought  of  becom- 
ing a  child  again,  of  turning  back  to  the  parent's  protec- 
tion, of  coming  into  the  mother  once  more  in  order  to  be 
born  again.  But  incest  stands  in  the  path  to  this  goal, 
that  is  to  say,  the  necessity  of  in  some  way  again  gaining 
entrance  into  the  mother's  womb.  One  of  the  simplest 
ways  would  be  to  impregnate  the  mother,  and  to  repro- 
duce one's  self  identically.  But  here  the  incest  prohibition 
interferes;  therefore,  the  myths  of  the  sun  or  of  rebirth 
teem  with  all  possible  proposals  as  to  how  incest  can  be 
evaded.  A  very  simple  method  of  avoidance  is  to  trans- 
form the  mother  into  another  being  or  to  rejuvenate  ^^ 
her  after  birth  has  occurred,  to  have  her  disappear  again 
or  have  her  change  back.  It  is  not  incestuous  cohabita- 
tion which  is  desired,  but  the  rebirth,  which  now  is  at- 
tained most  readily  through  cohabitation.  But  this  is 
not  the  only  way,  although  perhaps  the  original  one.  The 
resistance  to  the  incest  prohibition  makes  the  phantasy 
inventive;  for  example,  it  was  attempted  to  impregnate 
the  mother  by  means  of  a  magic  charm  of  fertility  (to 
wish  for  a  child).  Attempts  in  this  respect  remain  in 
the  stage  of  mythical  phantasies;  but  they  have  one  re- 
sult, and  that  is  the  exercise  of  the  phantasy  which 
gradually  produces  paths  through  the  creation  of  phan- 
tastic  possibilities,  in  which  the  libido,  taking  an  active 
part,  can  flow  off.  Thus  the  libido  becomes  spiritualized 
in  an  imperceptible  manner.  The  power  "  which  always 
wishes  evil  "  thus  creates  a  spiritual  life.     Therefore,  in 


252       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

religions,  this  course  is  now  raised  to  a  system.  On  that 
account  it  is  exceedingly  instructiv^e  to  see  how  religion 
takes  pains  to  further  these  symbolic  transferences.^^ 
The  New  Testament  furnishes  us  with  an  excellent  ex- 
ample in  regard  to  this.  Nicodemus,  in  the  speech  re- 
garding rebirth,  cannot  forbear  understanding  the  matter 
very  realistically. 

John   iii:4: 

(4)  "How  can  a  man  be  born  when  he  is  old?  Can  he  enter 
a  second  time  into  his  mother's  womb,  and  be  born?" 

But  Jesus  endeavors  to  raise  into  purity  the  sensuous 
view  of  Nicodemus's  mind  moulded  in  materialistic 
heaviness,  and  announces  to  him — really  the  same — and 
yet  not  the  same : 

(5)  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee,  Except  a  man  be  born  of 
water  and  of  the  spirit,  he  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
God. 

(6)  "That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh:  and  that  which 
is  born  of  the  spirit  is  spirit. 

(7)  "  Marvel  not  that  I  said  unto  thee,  Ye  must  be  born 
again. 

(8)  "  The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest  the 
sound  thereof,  but  canst  not  tell  whence  it  cometh  and  whither 
it  goeth;  so  is  everj'one  that  is  born  of  the  spirit." 

To  be  born  of  water  means  simply  to  be  born  from  the 
mother's  womb.  To  be  born  of  the  spirit  means  to  be 
born  from  the  fructifying  breath  of  the  wind;  this  we 
learn  from  the  Greek  text  (where  spirit  and  wind  are  ex- 
pressed by  the  same  word,  Trvsv/xa)  to  ysyswr^/uevov 
en  rrji  Gapnoi  Gap^  sffTiv,   xai  to  yeyavvTjjuivov    ex   rov 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    253 

Trvsvjuaro?   7rvev/.(d  €<jtiv. — To  Ttvsvjua  ottov  deXei  ttvsI,* 
etc. 

This  symbolism  rose  from  the  same  need  as  that  which 
produced  the  Egyptian  legend  of  the  vultures,  the  mother 
symbol.  They  were  only  females  and  were  fertilized  by 
the  wind.  One  recognizes  very  clearly  the  ethical  de- 
mand as  the  foundation  of  these  mythologic  assertions: 
thou  must  say  of  the  mother  that  she  was  not  impreg- 
nated by  a  mortal  in  the  ordinary  zscay,  but  by  a  spiritual 
being  in  an  unusual  manner.  This  demand  stands  in 
strict  opposition  to  the  real  truth;  therefore,  the  myth 
is  a  fitting  solution.  One  can  say  it  was  a  hero  who  died 
and  was  born  again  in  a  remarkable  manner,  and  in  this 
way  attained  immortality.  The  need  which  this  demand 
asserts  is  evidently  a  prohibition  against  a  definite  phan- 
tasy concerning  the  mother.  A  son  may  naturally  think 
that  a  father  has  generated  him  in  a  carnal  way,  but  not 
that  he  himself  impregnated  the  mother  and  so  caused 
himself  to  be  born  again  into  renewed  youth.  This  in- 
cestuous phantasy  which  for  some  reason  possesses  an 
extraordinary  strength,^-  and,  therefore,  appears  as  a 
compulsory  wish,  is  repressed  and,  conforming  to  the 
above  demand,  under  certain  conditions,  expresses  itself 
again,  symbolically,  concerning  the  problem  of  birth,  or 
rather  concerning  individual  rebirth  from  the  mother. 
In  Jesus's  challenge  to  Nicodemus  we  clearly  recognize 
this  tendency:  "Think  not  carnally  or  thou  art  carnal, 
but  think  symbolically,  then  art  thou  spirit."    It  is  evident 

*  That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh  and  that  which  is  born  of 
the  spirit  is  spirit;  the  spirit  bloweth  where  it  listeth. 


254       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

how  extremely  educative  and  developing  this  compulsion 
toward  symboHsm  can  be.  Nicodemus  would  remain  fixed 
in  low  commonplaces  if  he  did  not  succeed  in  raising  him- 
self through  symbols  above  this  repressed  incestuous 
desire.  As  a  righteous  philistine  of  culture,  he  probably 
was  not  very  anxious  for  this  effort,  because  men  seem 
really  to  remain  satisfied  in  repressing  the  incestuous 
libido,  and  at  best  to  express  it  by  some  modest  religious 
exercises.  Yet  it  seems  to  be  important,  on  the  other 
side,  that  man  should  not  merely  renounce  and  repress 
and  thereby  remain  firmly  fixed  in  the  incestuous  bond, 
but  that  he  should  redeem  those  dynamic  forces  which 
lie  bound  up  in  incest,  in  order  to  fulfil  himself.  For  man 
needs  his  whole  libido,  to  fill  out  the  boundaries  of  his 
personality,  and  then,  for  the  first  time,  he  is  in  a  condi- 
tion to  do  his  best.  The  paths  by  which  man  may  mani- 
fest his  incestuously  fixed  libido  seem  to  have  been 
pointed  out  by  the  religious  mythologic  symbols.  On  this 
account  Jesus  teaches  Nicodemus:  "Thou  thinkest  of 
thy  incestuous  wish  for  rebirth,  but  thou  must  think  that 
thou  art  born  from  the  water  and  that  thou  art  generated 
by  the  breath  of  the  wind,"^  and  in  this  way  thou  shalt 
share  in  eternal  life." 

Thus  the  libido  which  lies  inactive  in  the  incestuous 
bond  repressed  and  in  fear  of  the  law  and  the  avenging 
Father  God  can  be  led  over  into  sublimation  through  the 
symbol  of  baptism  (birth  from  water)  and  of  generation 
(spiritual  birth)  through  the  symbol  of  the  descent  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  Thus  man  becomes  a  child  ^*  again  and  is 
born  into  a  circle  of  brothers  and  sisters;  but  his  mother 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH     255 

is  the  "  communion  of  the  saints,"  the  church,  and  his 
circle  of  brothers  and  sisters  is  humanity,  with  whom  he  is 
united  anew  in  the  common  inheritance  of  the  primitive 
symbol. 

It  seems  that  at  the  time  in  which  Christianity  had  its 
origin   this   process   was   especially   necessary;    for   that 
period,  as  the  result  of  the  incredible  contrast  between 
slavery  and  the  freedom  of  the  citizens  and  masters,  had 
entirely  lost  the  consciousness  of  the  common  bond  of 
mankind.    One  of  the  next  and  most  essential  reasons  for 
the  energetic  regression  to  the  infantile  in  Christianity, 
which  goes  hand  in  hand  with  the  revival  of  the  incest 
problem,  was  probably  to  be  found  in  the  far-reaching 
depreciation  of  women.     At  that  time  sexuality  was  so 
easily  attainable  that  the  result  could  only  be  a  very  ex- 
cessive depreciation  of  the  sexual  object.     The  existence 
of  personal  values  was  first  discovered  by  Christianity, 
and  there  are  many  people  who  have  not  discovered  it 
even  in  the  present  day.     However,  the  depreciation  of 
the  sexual  object  hinders  the  outflow  of  that  libido  which 
cannot  be  satisfied  by  sexual  activity,  because  it  belongs 
to  an  already  desexualized  higher  order.      (If  it  were 
not  so,  a  Don  Juan  could  never  be  neurotic;  but  the  con- 
trary is  the  case.)     For  how  might  those  higher  valua- 
tions be  given  to  a  worthless,  despised  object?     There- 
fore, the  libido,  after  having  seen  a   "  Helen  in  every 
woman  "  for  so  long  a  time,  sets  out  on  a  search  for  the 
difficult  to  obtain,  the  worshipped,  but  perhaps  unattain- 
able, goal,  and  which  in  the  unconscious  is  the  mother. 
Therefore  the  symbolic  needs,  based  on  the  Incest  resist- 


256       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

ance,  arise  again  in  an  increased  degree,  which  promptly 
transforms  the  beautiful,  sinful  world  of  the  Olympian 
Gods  into  incomprehensible,  dreamlike,  dark  mysteries, 
which,  with  their  accessions  of  symbols  and  obscure  mean- 
ingful texts,  remove  us  very  far  from  the  religious 
feelings  of  that  Roman-Gra^co  world.  When  we  see 
how  much  trouble  Jesus  took  to  make  acceptable  to  Nico- 
demus  the  symbolic  perception  of  things,  that  is  to  say, 
really  a  repression  and  veiling  over  of  the  actual  facts, 
and  how  important  it  was  for  the  history  of  civilization 
in  general,  that  people  thought  and  still  think  in  this 
way,  then  we  understand  the  revolt  which  is  raised  every- 
where against  the  psychologic  discovery  of  the  true  back- 
ground of  the  neurotic  or  normal  symbolism.  Always 
and  everywhere  we  encounter  the  odious  realm  of  sexual- 
ity, which  represents  to  all  righteous  people  of  to-day 
something  defiled.  However,  less  than  2,000  years  have 
passed  since  the  religious  cult  of  sexuality  was  more  or 
less  openly  in  full  bloom.  To  be  sure,  they  were  heathen 
and  did  not  know  better,  but  the  nature  of  religious  power 
does  not  change  from  cycle  to  cycle.  If  one  has  once  re- 
ceived an  effectual  impression  of  the  sexual  contents  of 
the  ancient  cults,  and  if  one  realizes  oneself  that  the  re- 
ligious experience,  that  is,  the  union  "^  with  the  God  of 
antiquity,  was  understood  by  antiquity  as  a  more  or  less 
concrete  coitus,  then  truly  one  can  no  longer  fancy  that 
the  motor  forces  of  a  religion  have  suddenly  become 
wholly  different  since  the  birth  of  Christ.  Exactly  the 
same  thing  has  occurred  as  with  the  hysteric  who  at  first 
indulges  in  some  quite  unbeautiful,  infantile  sexual  mani- 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    257 

festatlons  and  afterwards  develops  a  hyperaesthetic  nega- 
tion in  order  to  convince  every  one  of  his  special  purity. 
Christianity,  with  its  repression  of  the  manifest  sexual,  is 
the  negative  of  the  ancient  sexual  cult.  The  original  cult 
has  changed  its  tokens.^®  One  only  needs  to  realize  how 
much  of  the  gay  paganism,  even  to  the  inclusion  of  un- 
seemly Gods,  has  been  taken  into  the  Christian  church. 
Thus  the  old  indecent  Priapus  celebrated  a  gay  festival  of 
resurrection  in  St.  Tychon."  Also  partly  in  the  physicians 
Sts.  Kosma  and  Damien,  who  graciously  condescended  to 
accept  the  "  membra  virilia  "  in  wax  at  their  festival.^^ 
St.  Phallus  of  old  memories  emerges  again  to  be  wor- 
shipped in  country  chapels,  to  say  nothing  of  the  rest  of 
the  paganism! 

There  are  those  who  have  not  yet  learned  to  recognize 
sexuality  as  a  function  equivalent  to  hunger  and  who, 
therefore,  consider  it  as  disgraceful  that  certain  taboo 
institutions  which  were  considered  as  asexual  refuges  are 
now  recognized  as  overflowing  with  sexual  symbolism. 
Those  people  are  doomed  to  the  painful  realization  that 
such  is  still  the  case,  in  spite  of  their  great  revolt.  One 
must  learn  to  understand  that,  opposed  to  the  customary 
habit  of  thought,  psychoanalytic  thinking  reduces  and 
resolves  those  symbolic  structures  which  have  become 
more  and  more  complicated  through  countless  elabora- 
tion. This  means  a  course  of  reduction  which  would 
be  an  intellectual  enjoyment  if  the  object  were  different. 
But  here  it  becomes  distressing,  not  only  aesthetically,  but 
apparently  also  ethically,  because  the  repressions  which 
are  to  be  overcome  have  been  brought  about  by  our  best 


258       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

intentions.  We  must  commence  to  overcome  our  virtu- 
ousness  with  the  certain  fear  of  falling  into  baseness  on 
the  other  side.  This  is  certainly  true,  for  virtuousness  is 
always  inwardly  compensated  by  a  great  tendency  towards 
baseness;  and  how  many  profligates  are  there  who  in- 
wardly preserve  a  mawkish  virtue  and  moral  megalo- 
mania? Both  categories  of  men  turn  out  to  be  snobs 
when  they  come  in  contact  with  analytic  psychology,  be- 
cause the  moral  man  has  imagined  an  objective  and  cheap 
verdict  on  sexuality  and  the  unmoral  man  is  entirely  un- 
aware of  the  vulgarity  of  his  sexuality  and  of  his  inca- 
pacity for  an  unselfish  love.  One  completely  forgets  that 
one  can  most  miserably  be  carried  away,  not  only  by  a 
vice,  but  also  by  a  virtue.  There  is  a  fanatic  orgiastic 
self-righteousness  which  is  just  as  base  and  which  entails 
just  as  much  injustice  and  violence  as  a  vice. 

At  this  time,  when  a  large  part  of  mankind  is  begin- 
ning to  discard  Christianity,  it  is  worth  while  to  under- 
stand clearly  why  it  was  originally  accepted.  It  was  ac- 
cepted in  order  to  escape  at  last  from  the  brutality  of 
antiquity.  As  soon  as  we  discard  it,  licentiousness  re- 
turns, as  impressively  exemplified  by  life  in  our  large 
modern  cities.  This  step  is  not  a  forward  step,  but  a 
backward  one.  It  is  as  with  individuals  who  have  laid 
aside  one  form  of  transference  and  have  no  new  one. 
Without  fail  they  will  occupy  regressively  the  old  path 
of  transference,  to  their  great  detriment,  because  the 
world  around  them  has  since  then  essentially  changed. 
He  who  is  repelled  by  the  historical  and  philosophical 
weakness  of  the  Christian  dogmatism  and  the  religious 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    259 

emptiness  of  an  historical  Jesus,  of  whose  person  we  know 
nothing  and  whose  rehgious  value  is  partly  Talmudic, 
partly  Hellenic  wisdom,  and  discards  Christianity,  and 
therewith  Christian  morality,  is  certainly  confronted  with 
the  ancient  problem  of  licentiousness.  Today  the  indi- 
vidual still  feels  himself  restrained  by  the  public  hypo- 
critical opinion,  and,  therefore,  prefers  to  lead  a  secret, 
separate  life,  but  publicly  to  represent  morality.  It 
might  be  different  if  men  in  general  all  at  once  found  the 
moral  mask  too  dull,  and  if  they  realized  how  danger- 
ously their  beasts  lie  in  wait  for  each  other,  and  then 
truly  a  frenzy  of  demoralization  might  sweep  over  hu- 
manity. This  is  the  dream,  the  wish  dream,  of  the 
morally  limited  man  of  today;  he  forgets  necessity,  which 
strangles  men  and  robs  them  of  their  breath,  and  which 
with  a  stern  hand  interrupts  every  passion. 

It  must  not  be  imputed  to  me  that  I  am  wishing  to 
refer  the  libido  back  by  analytical  reduction  to  the  primi- 
tive, almost  conquered,  stages,  entirely  forgetting  the  fear- 
ful misery  this  would  entail  for  humanity.  Indeed,  some 
individuals  would  let  themselves  be  transported  by  the 
old-time  frenzy  of  sexuality,  from  which  the  burden  of 
guilt  has  been  removed,  to  their  own  greatest  detriment. 

But  these  are  the  ones  who  under  other  circumstances 
would  have  prematurely  perished  in  some  other  way. 
However,  I  well  know  the  most  effectual  and  most  inex- 
orable regulator  of  human  sexuality.  This  is  necessity. 
With  this  leaden  weight  human  lust  will  never  fly  too 
high. 

To-day  there  are  countless  neurotics  who  are  so  simply 


26o       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

because  they  do  not  know  how  to  seek  happiness  in  their 
own  manner.  They  do  not  even  realize  where  the  lack 
lies.  And  besides  these  neurotics  there  are  many  more 
normal  people — and  precisely  people  of  the  higher  type — 
who  feel  restricted  and  discontented.  For  all  these  re- 
duction to  the  sexual  elements  should  be  undertaken,  in 
order  that  they  may  be  reinstated  into  the  possession  of 
their  primitive  self,  and  thereby  learn  to  know  and  value 
its  relation  to  the  entire  personality.  In  this  way  alone 
can  certain  requirements  be  fulfilled  and  others  be  re- 
pudiated as  unfit  because  of  their  infantile  character.  In 
this  way  the  individual  will  come  to  realize  that  certain 
things  are  to  be  sacrificed,  although  they  are  accom- 
plished, but  in  another  sphere.  We  imagine  that  we  have 
long  renounced,  sacrificed  and  cut  off  our  incest  wish, 
and  that  nothing  of  it  is  left.  But  it  does  not  occur  to  us 
that  this  is  not  true,  but  that  we  unconsciously  commit 
incest  in  another  territory.  In  religious  symbols,  for 
example,  we  come  across  incest.'^^  We  consider  the  In- 
cestuous wish  vanished  and  lost,  and  then  rediscover  it 
in  full  force  in  religion.  This  process  or  transformation 
has  taken  place  unconsciously  in  secular  development. 
Just  as  in  Part  I  it  is  shown  that  a  similar  unconscious 
transformation  of  the  libido  is  an  ethically  worthless  pose, 
and  with  which  I  compared  the  Christianity  of  early 
Roman  antiquity,  where  evidently  licentiousness  and  bru- 
tality were  strongly  resisted,  so  here  I  must  remark  in 
regard  to  the  sublimation  of  the  incestuous  libido,  that 
the  belief  in  the  religious  symbol  has  ceased  to  be  an 
ethical  ideal;  but  it  is  an  unconscious  transformation  of 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    261 

the  incest  wish  into  symbolic  acts  and  symbolic  concepts 
which  cheat  men,  as  it  were,  so  that  heaven  appears  to 
them  as  a  father  and  earth  as  a  mother  and  the  people 
upon  it  children  and  brothers  and  sisters.  Thus  man  can 
remain  a  child  for  all  time  and  satisfy  his  incest  wish  all 
unawares.  This  state  would  doubtless  be  ideal  *"  if  it  were 
not  infantile  and,  therefore,  merely  a  one-sided  wish,  which 
maintains  a  childish  attitude.  The  reverse  is  anxiety. 
Much  is  said  of  pious  people  who  remain  unshaken  in 
their  trust  in  God  and  wander  unswervingly  safe  and 
blessed  through  the  world.  I  have  never  seen  this  Chid- 
her  yet.  It  is  probably  a  wish  figure.  The  rule  is  great 
uncertainty  among  believers,  which  they  drown  with 
fanatical  cries  among  themselves  or  among  others ;  more- 
over, they  have  religious  doubts,  moral  uncertainty, 
doubts  of  their  own  personality,  feelings  of  guilt  and, 
deepest  of  all,  great  fear  of  the  opposite  aspect  of  reality, 
against  which  the  most  highly  intelligent  people  struggle 
with  all  their  force.  This  other  side  is  the  devil,  the 
adversary  or,  expressed  in  modern  terms,  the  corrective 
of  reality,  of  the  infantile  world  picture,  which  has  been 
made  acceptable  through  the  predominating  pleasure 
principle."  But  the  world  is  not  a  garden  of  God,  of 
the  Father,  but  a  place  of  terrors.  Not  only  is  heaven 
no  father  and  earth  no  mother  and  the  people  not 
brothers  nor  sisters,  but  they  represent  hostile,  destroy- 
ing powers,  to  which  we  are  abandoned  the  more  surely, 
the  more  childishly  and  thoughtlessly  we  have  entrusted 
ourselves  to  the  so-called  Fatherly  hand  of  God.  One 
should  never  forget  th«  harsh  speech  of  the  first  Na- 


262       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

poleon,  that  the  good  God  is  always  on  the  side  of  the 
heaviest  artillery. 

The  religious  myth  meets  us  here  as  one  of  the  greatest 
and  most  significant  human  institutions  which,  despite 
misleading  symbols,  nevertheless  gives  man  assurance  and 
strength,  so  that  he  may  not  be  overwhelmed  by  the 
monsters  of  the  universe.  The  symbol,  considered  from 
the  standpoint  of  actual  truth,  is  misleading,  indeed,  but 
it  is  psychologically  true,^^  because  it  was  and  is  the  bridge 
to  all  the  greatest  achievements  of  humanity. 

But  this  does  not  mean  to  say  that  this  unconscious 
way  of  transformation  of  the  incest  wish  into  religious 
exercises  is  the  only  one  or  the  only  possible  one.  There 
is  also  a  conscious  recognition  and  understanding  with 
which  we  can  take  possession  of  this  libido  which  is 
bound  up  in  incest  and  transformed  into  religious  exer- 
cises so  that  we  no  longer  need  the  stage  of  religious 
symbolism  for  this  end.  It  is  thinkable  that  instead  of 
doing  good  to  our  fellow-men,  for  "  the  love  of  Christ," 
we  do  it  from  the  knowledge  that  humanity,  even  as  our- 
selves, could  not  exist  if,  among  the  herd,  the  one  could 
not  sacrifice  himself  for  the  other.  This  would  be  the 
course  of  moral  autonomy,  of  perfect  freedom,  when  man 
could  without  compulsion  wish  that  which  he  must  do, 
and  this  frorn  knowledge,  without  delusion  through  be- 
lief in  the  religious  symbols. 

It  is  a  positive  creed  which  keeps  us  infantile  and, 
therefore,  ethically  inferior.  Although  of  the  greatest 
significance  from  the  cultural  point  of  view  and  of  im- 
perishable   beauty    from    the    aesthetic    standpoint,    this 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    263 

delusion  can  no  longer  ethically  suffice  humanity  striving 
after  moral  autonomy. 

The  infantile  and  moral  danger  lies  in  belief  in  the 
symbol  because  through  that  we  guide  the  libido  to  an 
imaginary  reality.  The  simple  negation  of  the  symbol 
changes  nothing,  for  the  entire  mental  disposition  re- 
mains the  same ;  we  merely  remove  the  dangerous  object. 
But  the  object  is  not  dangerous;  the  danger  is  our  own 
infantile  mental  state,  for  love  of  which  we  have  lost 
something  very  beautiful  and  ingenious  through  the 
simple  abandonment  of  the  religious  symbol.  I  think 
belief  should  be  replaced  by  understanding;  then  we 
would  keep  the  beauty  of  the  symbol,  but  still  remain 
free  from  the  depressing  results  of  submission  to  belief. 
This  would  be  the  psychoanalytic  cure  for  belief  and  dis- 
belief. 


The  vision  following  upon  that  of  the  city  is  that  of  a 
"  strange  fir  tree  with  gnarled  branches."  This  vision 
does  not  seem  extraordinary  to  us  after  all  that  we  have 
learned  of  the  tree  of  life  and  its  associations  with  the 
city  and  the  waters  of  life.  This  especial  tree  seems 
simply  to  continue  the  category  of  the  mother  symbols. 
The  attribute  "  strange  "  probably  signifies,  as  in  dreams, 
a  special  emphasis,  that  is,  a  special  underlying  complex 
material.  Unfortunately,  the  author  gives  us  no  indi- 
vidual material  for  this.  As  the  tree  already  suggested 
in  the  symbolism  of  the  city  is  particularly  emphasized 
through  the  further  development  of  Miss  Miller's  visions 


264       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

here,  I  find  it  necessary  to  discuss  at  some  length  the  his- 
tory of  the  symbolism  of  the  tree. 

It  is  well  known  that  trees  have  played  a  large  part  in 
the  cult  myth  from  the  remotest  times.  The  typical  myth 
tree  is  the  tree  of  paradise  or  of  life  which  we  discover 
abundantly  used  in  Babylonian  and  also  in  Jewish  lore; 
and  in  prechristian  times,  the  pine  tree  of  Attis,  the  tree 
or  trees  of  Mithra;  in  Germanic  mythology,  Ygdrasil 
and  so  on.  The  hanging  of  the  Attis  image  on  the  pine 
tree;  the  hanging  of  Marsyas,  which  became  a  celebrated 
artistic  motive;  the  hanging  of  Odin;  the  Germanic  hang- 
ing sacrifices — indeed,  the  whole  series  of  hanged  gods — 
teaches  us  that  the  hanging  of  Christ  on  the  cross  is  not 
a  unique  occurrence  in  religious  mythology,  but  belongs 
to  the  same  circle  of  ideas  as  others.  In  this  world  of 
imagery  the  cross  of  Christ  is  the  tree  of  life,  and  equally 
the  wood  of  death.  This  contrast  is  not  astounding. 
Just  as  the  origin  of  man  from  trees  was  a  legendary  idea, 
so  there  were  also  burial  customs,  in  which  people  were 
buried  in  hollow  trees.  From  that  the  German  language 
retains  even  now  the  expression  "  Totenbaum  "  (tree  of 
death)  for  a  coffin.  Keeping  in  mind  the  fact  that  the 
tree  is  predominantly  a  mother  symbol,  then  the  mystic 
significance  of  this  manner  of  burial  can  be  in  no  way 
incomprehensible  to  us.  The  dead  are  delivered  hack  to 
the  mother  for  rebirth.  We  encounter  this  symbol  in 
the  Osiris  myth,  handed  down  by  Plutarch,*^  which  is,  in 
general,  typical  in  various  aspects.  Rhea  is  pregnant  with 
Osiris;  at  the  same  time  also  with  Isis;  Osiris  and  Isis 
mate  even  in  the  mother's  womb   (motive  of  the  night 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    265 

journey  on  the  sea  with  incest).  Their  son  is  Arueris, 
later  called  Horus.  It  is  said  of  Isis  that  she  was  born 
"  in  absolute  humidity  "  {TerdpTrj  6i  rijv  "Iffiv  iv  navv- 
ypoi?  yeveaOai  *).  It  is  said  of  Osiris  that  a  certain  Pa- 
myles  in  Thebes  heard  a  voice  from  the  temple  of  Zeus 
while  drawing  water,  which  commanded  him  to  proclaim 
that  Osiris  was  born  ^iya?  /SaffiXev?  evepyitrj?  "Offipi?.\ 
In  honor  of  this  the  Pamylion  were  celebrated.  They 
were  similar  to  the  phallophorion,  Pamyles  is  a  phallic 
demon,  similar  to  the  original  Dionysus.  The  myth  re- 
duced reads:  Osiris  and  Isis  were  generated  by  phallus 
from  the  water  (mother  womb)  in  the  ordinary  manner. 
(Kronos  had  made  Rhea  pregnant,  the  relation  was 
secret,  and  Rhea  was  his  sister.  Helios,  however,  ob- 
served it  and  cursed  the  relation.)  Osiris  was  killed  in 
a  crafty  manner  by  the  god  of  the  underworld,  Typhon, 
who  locked  him  in  a  chest.  He  was  thrown  into  the  Nile, 
and  so  carried  out  to  sea.  Osiris,  however,  mated  in  the 
underworld  with  his  second  sister,  Nephthys  (motive  of 
the  night  journey  to  the  sea  with  incest).  One  sees  here 
how  the  symbolism  is  developed.  In  the  mother  womb, 
before  the  outward  existence,  Osiris  commits  incest;  in 
death,  the  second  intrauterine  existence,  Osiris  again  com- 
mits incest.  Both  times  with  a  sister  who  is  simply  sub- 
stituted for  the  mother  as  a  legal,  uncensured  symbol, 
since  the  marriage  with  a  sister  in  early  antiquity  was  not 
merely  tolerated,  but  was  really  commended.  Zara- 
thustra  also  recommended  the  marriage  of  kindred.    This 

*  In  tbe  fourth  place  Isis  was  born  in  absolute  humidity, 
t  The  great  beneficent  king,  Osiris. 


266       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

form  of  myth  would  be  impossible  to-day,  because  co- 
habitation with  the  sister,  being  incestuous,  would  be 
repressed.  The  wicked  Typhon  entices  Osiris  craftily 
into  a  box  or  chest;  this  distortion  of  the  true  state  of 
affairs  is  transparent.  The  "  original  sin  "  caused  men  to 
wish  to  go  back  into  the  mother  again,  that  is,  the  in- 
cestuous desire  for  the  mother,  condemned  by  law,  is  the 
ruse  supposedly  invented  by  Typhon.  The  fact  is,  the 
ruse  is  very  significant.  Man  tries  to  sneak  into  rebirth 
through  subterfuge  in  order  to  become  a  child  again. 
An  early  Egyptian  hymn "  even  raises  an  accusation 
against  the  mother  Isis  because  she  destroys  the  sun-god 
Re  by  treachery.  It  was  interpreted  as  the  ill-will  of  the 
mother  towards  her  son  that  she  banished  and  betrayed 
him.  The  hymn  describes  how  Isis  fashioned  a  snake, 
put  it  in  the  path  of  Re,  and  how  the  snake  wounded  the 
sun-god  with  a  poisonous  bite,  from  which  wound  he 
never  recovered,  so  that  finally  he  had  to  retire  on  the 
back  of  the  heavenly  cow.  But  this  cow  is  the  cow- 
headed  goddess,  just  as  Osiris  is  the  bull  Apis.  The 
mother  is  accused  as  if  she  were  the  cause  of  man  flyjng 
to  the  mother  in  order  to  be  cured  of  the  wound  which 
she  had  herself  inflicted.  This  wound  is  the  prohibition 
of  incest.*^  Man  is  thus  cut  off  from  the  hopeful  cer- 
tainty of  childhood  and  early  youth,  from  all  the  uncon- 
scious, instinctive  happenings  which  permit  the  child  to 
live  as  an  appendage  of  his  parents,  unconscious  of  him- 
self. There  must  be  contained  in  this  many  sensitive 
memories  of  the  animal  age,  where  there  was  not  any 
"  thou  shalt "  and  "  thou  shalt  not,"  but  all  was  just 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    267 

simple  occurrence.  Even  yet  a  deep  animosity  seems  to 
live  in  man  because  a  brutal  law  has  separated  him  from 
the  instinctive  yielding  to  his  desires  and  from  the  great 
beauty  of  the  harmony  of  the  animal  nature.  This  sepa- 
ration manifested  itself,  among  other  things,  in  the  incest 
prohibition  and  its  correlates  (laws  of  marriage,  etc.)  ; 
therefore  pain  and  anger  relate  to  the  mother,  as  if  she 
were  responsible  for  the  domestication  of  the  sons  of 
men.  In  order  not  to  become  conscious  of  his  incest  wish 
(his  backward  harking  to  the  animal  nature),  the  son 
throws  all  the  burden  of  the  guilt  on  the  mother,  from 
which  arises  the  idea  of  the  "  terrible  mother."  ^®  The 
mother  becomes  for  him  a  spectre  of  anxiety,  a  night- 
mare.*^ 

After  the  completed  "  night  journey  to  the  sea,"  the 
chest  of  Osiris  was  cast  ashore  by  Byblos,  and  lay  in  the 
branches  of  an  Erica,  which  grew  around  the  coffin  and 
became  a  splendid  tree.  The  king  of  the  land  had  the 
tree  placed  as  a  column  under  his  roof.**  During  this 
period  of  Osiris's  absence  (the  winter  solstice)  the  lament 
customary  during  thousands  of  years  for  the  dead  god 
and  his  return  occurs,  and  its  svpsffi?  is  a  feast  of  joy. 
A  passage  from  the  mournful  quest  of  Isis  is  especially 
noteworthy : 

"  She  flutters  like  a  swallow  lamenting  around  the  column, 
which  encloses  the  god  sleeping  in  death." 

(This  same  motive  returns  in  the  Kyffhauser  saga.) 
Later  on  Typhon  dismembers  the  corpse  and  scatters 
the  pieces.     We  come  upon  the  motive  of  dismember- 


268       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

ment  In  countless  sun  myths,*®  namely,  the  inversion  of 
the  idea  of  the  composition  of  the  child  In  the  mother's 
womb.^°  In  fact,  the  mother  Isis  collects  the  pieces  of 
the  body  with  the  help  of  the  jackal-headed  Anubis.  (She 
finds  the  corpse  with  the  help  of  dogs.)  Here  the  noc- 
turnal devourers  of  bodies,  the  dogs  and  jackals,  become 
the  assistants  of  the  composition,  of  the  reproduction." 
The  Egyptian  vulture  owes  its  symbolic  meaning  as 
mother  to  this  necrophagic  habit.  In  Persian  antiquity  the 
corpses  were  thrown  out  for  the  dogs  to  devour,  just  as 
to-day  in  the  Indian  funeral  pyres  the  removal  of  the 
carcasses  is  left  to  the  vultures.  Persia  was  familiar  with 
the  custom  of  leading  a  dog  to  the  bed  of  one  dying, 
whereupon  the  latter  had  to  present  the  dog  with  a  mor- 
sel." The  custom,  on  its  surface,  evidently  signifies  that 
the  morsel  is  to  belong  to  the  dog,  so  that  he  will  spare 
the  body  of  the  dead,  precisely  as  Cerberus  was  soothed 
by  the  honey-cakes  which  Hercules  gave  to  him  in  the 
journey  to  hell.  But  when  we  bear  In  mind  the  jackal- 
headed  Anubis  who  rendered  his  good  services  in  the 
gathering  together  of  the  dismembered  Osiris,  and  the 
mother  significance  of  the  vulture,  then  the  question  arises 
whether  something  deeper  was  not  meant  by  this  cere- 
mony. Creuzer  has  also  concerned  himself, with  this  idea, 
and  has  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  astral  form  of 
the  dog  ceremony,  that  Is,  the  appearance  of  SIrius,  the 
dog  star,  at  the  period  of  the  sun's  highest  position.  Is 
related  to  this  in  that  the  Introduction  of  the  dog  has  a 
compensatory  significance,  death  being  thereby  made,  re- 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    269 

versedly,  equal  to  the  sun's  highest  position.  This  is 
quite  in  conformity  with  psychologic  thought,  which  re- 
sults from  the  very  general  fact  that  death  is  interpreted 
as  entrance  into  the  mother's  womb  (rebirth).  This  in- 
terpretation would  seem  to  be  supported  by  the  other- 
wise enigmatic  function  of  the  dog  in  the  Sacrificium 
Mithriacum.  In  the  monuments  a  dog  always  leaps  up 
upon  the  bull  killed  by  Mithra.  However,  this  sacrifice 
is  probably  to  be  interpreted  through  the  Persian  legend, 
as  well  as  through  the  monument,  as  the  moment  of  the 
highest  fecundity.  The  most  beautiful  expression  of  this 
is  seen  upon  the  magnificent  Mithra  relief  of  Heddern- 
heim.  Upon  one  side  of  a  large  stone  slab  (formerly 
probably  rotating)  is  seen  the  stereotyped  overthrowing 
and  sacrifice  of  the  bull,  but  upon  the  other  side  stands 
Sol,  with  a  bunch  of  grapes  in  his  hand,  Mithra  with 
the  cornucopia,  the  Dadophores  with  fruits,  correspond- 
ing to  the  legend  that  all  fecundity  proceeds  from  the 
dead  bull  of  the  world,  fruits  from  the  horns,  wine  from 
its  blood,  grain  from  the  tail,  cattle  from  its  sperma,  leek, 
from  its  nose,  and  so  on.  Silvanus  stands  above  this 
scene  with  the  animals  of  the  forest  arising  from  him. 
The  significance  suspected  by  Creuzer  might  very  easily 
belong  to  the  dog  in  this  connection.^^  Let  us  now  turn 
back  to  the  myth  of  Osiris.  In  spite  of  the  restoration  of 
the  corpse  accomplished  by  Isis,  the  resuscitation  succeeds 
only  incompletely  in  so  far  as  the  phallus  of  Osiris  cannot 
again  be  produced,  because  It  was  eaten  by  the  fishes; 
the  power  of  life  was  wanting.^*  Osiris  as  a  phantom 
once  more  impregnated  Isis,  but  the  fruit  is  Harpocrates, 


270       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

who  was  feeble  In  roi?  xdt coder  yviois  (in  the  lower 
limbs),  that  is,  corresponding  to  the  significance  of 
yviov  (at  the  feet).  (Here,  as  is  plainly  evident,  foot 
is  used  in  the  phallic  meaning.)  This  incurability  of  the 
setting  sun  corresponds  to  the  incurability  of  Re  in  the 
above-mentioned  older  Egyptian  sun  hymn.  Osiris,  al- 
though only  a  phantom,  now  prepares  the  young  sun,  his 
son  Horus,  for  a  battle  with  Typhon,  the  evil  spirit  of 
darkness.  Osiris  and  Horus  correspond  to  the  father- 
son  symbolism  mentioned  in  the  beginning,  which  sym- 
bolic figure,  corresponding  again  to  the  above  formula- 
tion," is  flanked  by  the  well-formed  and  ugly  figures  of 
Horus  and  Harpocrates,  the  latter  appearing  mostly  as  a 
cripple,  often  represented  distorted  to  a  mere  caricature. ^^ 
He  is  confused  in  the  tradition  very  much  with  Horus, 
with  whom  he  also  has  the  name  in  common.  Hor-pi- 
chrud,  as  his  real  name  "  reads,  is  composed  from  chrtid, 
"  child,"  and  Hor,  from  the  adjective  hri  =  up,  on  top, 
and  signifies  the  up-coming  child,  as  the  rising  sun,  and 
opposed  to  Osiris,  who  personifies  the  setting  sun— the 
sun  of  the  west.  Thus  Osiris  and  Horpichrud  or  Horus 
are  one  being,  both  husband  and  son  of  the  same  mother, 
Hathor-Isis.  The  Chnum-Ra,  the  sun  god  of  lower 
Egypt,  represented  as  a  ram,  has  at  his  side,  as  the  female 
divinity  of  the  land,  Hatmehit,  who  wears  the  fish  on  her 
head.  She  Is  the  mother  and  wife  of  Bi-neb-did  (Ram, 
local  name  of  Chnum-Ra).  In  the  hymn  of  Hibis,^^ 
Amon-ra  was  invoked: 

"Thy    (Chum-Ram)    dwells  in  Mendes,  united  as  the  quad- 
ruple god  Thmuis.    He  is  the  phallus,  the  lord  of  the  gods.    The 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    271 

bull  of  his  mother  rejoices  in  the  cow   (ahet,  the  mother)   and 
man  fructifies  through  his  semen." 

In  further  inscriptions  Hatmehit  was  directly  referred 
to  as  the  *'  mother  of  Mendes."  (Mendes  is  the  Greek 
form  of  Bi-neb-did:  ram.)  She  is  also  invoked  as  the 
"  Good,"  with  the  additional  significance  of  ta-nofert,  or 
"  young  woman."  The  cow  as  symbol  of  the  mother  Is 
found  in  all  possible  forms  and  variations  of  Hathor- 
Isis,  and  also  in  the  female  Nun  (parallel  to  this  is  the 
primitive  goddess  Nit  or  Neith),  the  protoplasm  which, 
related  to  the  Hindoo  Atman,*^**  is  equally  of  masculine 
and  feminine  nature.  Nun  is,  therefore,  invoked  as 
Amon,*'°  the  original  water,®^  which  is  in  the  beginning. 
He  is  also  designated  as  the  father  of  fathers,  the  mother 
of  mothers.  To  this  corresponds  the  invocation  to  the 
female  side  of  Nun-Amon,  of  Nit  or  Neith. 

"  Nit,  the  ancient,  the  mother  of  god,  the  mistress  of  Esne, 
the  father  of  fathers,  the  mother  of  mothers,  who  is  the  beetle 
and  the  vulture,  the  being  in  its  beginning. 

"  Nit,  the  ancient,  the  mother  who  bore  the  light  god,  Ra, 
who  bore  first  of  all,  when  there  was  nothing  which  brought  forth. 

"  The  cow,  the  ancient,  which  bore  the  sun,  and  then  laid  the 
germ  of  gods  and  men." 

The  word  "  nun  "  has  the  significance  of  young,  fresh, 
new,  also  the  on-coming  waters  of  the  Nile  flood.  In  a 
transferred  sense  "  nun  "  was  also  used  for  the  chaotic 
primitive  waters;  in  general  for  the  primitive  generating 
matter  ^^  which  was  personified  by  the  goddess  Nunet. 
From  her  Nut  sprang,  the  goddess  of  heaven,  who  was 


272        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

represented  with  a  starry  body,  and  also  as  the  heavenly 
cow  with  a  starry  body. 

When  the  sun-god,  little  by  little,  retires  on  the  back 
of  the  heavenly  cow,  just  as  poor  Lazarus  returns  into 
Abraham's  bosom,  each  has  the  same  significance;  they 
return  into  the  mother,  in  order  to  rise  as  Horus.  Thus 
it  can  be  said  that  in  the  morning  the  goddess  is  the 
mother,  at  noon  the  sister-wife  and  in  the  evening  again 
the  mother,  who  receives  the  dying  in  her  lap,  reminding 
us  of  the  Pieta  of  Michelangelo.  As  shown  by  the  illus- 
tration (from  Dideron's  "  Iconographie  Chretienne  "), 
this  thought  has  been  transferred  as  a  whole  into  Chris- 
tianity. 

Thus  the  fate  of  Osiris  is  explained:  he  passes  into 
the  mother's  womb,  the  chest,  the  sea,  the  tree,  the 
column  of  Astartes;  he  is  dismembered,  re-formed,  and 
reappears  again  in  his  son,  Hor-pi-chrud. 

Before  entering  upon  the  further  mysteries  which  the 
beautiful  myth  reveals  to  us,  there  is  still  much  to  be  said 
about  the  symbol  of  the  tree.  Osiris  lies  in  the  branches 
of  the  tree,  surrounded  by  them,  as  in  the  mother's  womb. 
The  motive  of  embracing  and  entwining  is  often  found 
in  the  sun  myths,  meaning  that  it  is  the  myth  of  rebirth. 
A  good  example  is  the  Sleeping  Beauty,  also  the  legend 
of  the  girl  who  is  enclosed  between  the  bark  and  the 
trunk,  but  who  is  freed  by  a  youth  with  his  horn.^^  The 
horn  is  of  gold  and  silver,  which  hints  at  the  sunbeam  in 
the  phallic  meaning.  (Compare  the  previous  legend  of 
the  horn.)  An  exotic  legend  tells  of  the  sun-hero,  how  he 
must  be  freed  from  the  plant  entwining  around  him.®* 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    273 

A  girl  dreams  of  her  lover  who  has  fallen  into  the  water; 
she  tries  to  save  him,  but  first  has  to  pull  seaweed  and 
sea-grass  from  the  water;  then  she  catches  him.  In  an 
African  myth  the  hero,  after  his  act,  must  first  be  disen- 
tangled from  the  seaweed.  In  a  Polynesian  myth  the 
hero's  ship  was  encoiled  by  the  tentacles  of  a  gigantic 
polyp.  Re's  ship  is  encoiled  by  a  night  serpent  on  its 
night  journey  on  the  sea.  In  the  poetic  rendering  of  the 
history  of  Buddha's  birth  by  Sir  Edwin  Arnold  ("The 
Light  of  Asia,"  p.  5)  the  motive  of  an  embrace  is  also 
found : 

"  Queen  Maya  stood  at  noon,  her  days  fulfilled, 
Under  a  Palso  in  the  palace  grounds, 
A  stately  trunk,  straight  as  a  temple  shaft. 
With  crown  of  glossy  leaves  and  fragrant  blooms; 
And  knowing  the  time  come — for  all  things  knew — 
The  conscious  tree  bent  down  its  boughs  to  make 
A  bower  about  Queen  Maya's  majesty : 
And  earth  put  forth  a  thousand  sudden  flowers 
To  spread  a  couch:  while  ready  for  the  bath 
The  rock  hard  by  gave  out  a  limpid  stream 
Of  crystal  flow.     So  brought  she  forth  the  child."  ®^ 

We  come  across  a  very  similar  motive  in  the  cult  legend 
of  the  Samian  Hera.  Yearly  it  was  claimed  that  the 
image  disappeared  from  the  temple,  was  fastened  some- 
Vvhere  on  the  seashore  on  a  trunk  of  a  Lygos  tree  and 
wound  about  with  its  branches.  There  it  was  "  found," 
and  was  treated  with  wedding-cake.  This  feast  is  un- 
doubtedly a  upo?  yduo?  (ritual  marriage),  because  in 
Samos  there  was  a  legend  that  Zeus  had  first  had  a  long- 
continued  secret  love  relation  with  Hera.     In  Plataea 


274       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

and  Argos,  the  marriage  procession  was  represented  with 
bridesmaids,  marriage  feast,  and  so  on.  The  festival  took 
place  in  the  wedding  month  ^^  raixrjXiwv"  (beginning  of 
February).  But  in  Plataea  the  image  was  previously 
carried  into  a  lonely  place  in  the  wood;  approximately 
corresponding  to  the  legend  of  Plutarch  that  Zeus  had 
kidnapped  Hera  and  then  had  hidden  her  in  a  cave  of 
Cithaeron.  According  to  our  deductions,  previously 
made,  we  must  conclude  from  this  that  there  is  still  an- 
other train  of  thought,  namely,  the  magic  charm  of 
rejuvenation,  which  is  condensed  in  the  Hierosgamos. 
The  disappearance  and  hiding  in  the  wood,  in  the  cave, 
on  the  seashore,  entwined  in  a  willow  tree,  points  to  the 
death  of  the  sun  and  rebirth.  The  early  springtime 
raixrfXiGDv  (the  time  of  Marriage)  in  February  fits  in 
with  that  very  well.  In  fact,  Pausanias  informs  us  that 
the  Argivan  Hera  became  a  maiden  again  by  a  yearly 
bath  in  the  spring  of  Canathos.  The  significance  of  the 
bath  is  emphasized  by  the  information  that  in  the 
Plataeian  cult  of  Hera  Teleia,  Tritonian  nymphs  appeared 
as  water-carriers.  In  a  tale  from  the  Iliad,  where  the 
conjugal  couch  of  Zeus  upon  Mount  Ida  is  described,  it  is 
said:'^ 

"  The  son  of  Saturn  spake,  and  took  his  wife 
Into  his  arms,  while  underneath  the  pair, 
The  sacred  Earth  threw  up  her  freshest  herbs: 
The  dewy  lotos,  and  the  crocus-flower, 
And  thick  and  soft  the  hyacinth.    All  these 
Upbore  them  from  the  ground.     Upon  this  couch 
They  lay,  while  o'er  them  a  bright  golden  cloud 
Gathered  and  shed  its  drops  of  glistening  dew. 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    275 

So  slumbered  on  the  heights  of  Gargarus 
The  All-Father   overcome   by   sleep   and   love, 
And  held  his  consort  in  his  arms." 

— Trans,  by  W.  C.  Bryant. 

Drexler  recognizes  in  this  description  an  unmistakable 
allusion  to  the  garden  of  the  gods  on  the  extreme  western 
shore  of  the  ocean,  an  idea  which  might  have  been  taken 
from  a  Prehomeric  Hierosgamos  hymn.  This  western 
land  is  the  land  of  the  setting  sun,  whither  Hercules, 
Gilgamesh,  etc.,  hasten  with  the  sun,  in  order  to  find 
there  immortality,  where  the  sun  and  the  maternal  sea 
unite  in  an  eternally  rejuvenating  intercourse.  Our  sup- 
position of  a  condensation  of  the  Hierosgamos  with  the 
myth  of  rebirth  is  probably  confirmed  by  this.  Pausanias 
mentions  a  related  myth  fragment  where  the  statue  of 
Artemis  Orthia  is  also  called  Lygodesma  (chained  with 
"  willows),  because  it  was  found  in  a  willow  tree;  this  tale 
seems  to  be  related  to  the  general  Greek  celebration  of 
Hierosgamos  with  the  above-mentioned  customs. ^'^ 

The  motive  of  the  "devouring"  which  Frobenius  has 
shown  to  be  a  regular  constituent  of  the  sun  myths  is 
closely  related  to  this  (also  metaphorically).  The 
"whale  dragon"  (mother's  womb)  always  "devours" 
the  hero.  The  devouring  may  also  be  partial  instead  of 
complete. 

A  six-year-old  girl,  who  goes  to  school  unwillingly, 
dreams  that  her  leg  is  encircled  by  a  large  red  worm. 
She  had  a  tender  interest  for  this  creature,  contrary  to 
what  might  be  expected.  An  adult  patient,  who  cannot 
separate  from  an  older  friend  on  account  of  an  extraordi- 


276       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

narily  strong  mother  transference,  dreams  that  "  she  had 
to  get  across  some  deep  water  (typical  Idea!)  with  this 
friend;  her  friend  fell  in  (mother  transference)  ;  she 
tries  to  drag  her  out,  and  almost  succeeds,  but  a  large 
crab  seizes  on  the  dreamer  by  the  foot  and  tries  to  pull 
her  in." 

Etymology  also  confirms  this  conception :  There  is  an 
Indo-Germanic  root  velu-,  vel-,  with  the  meaning  of  "  en- 
circling, surrounding,  turning."  From  this  is  derived 
Sanskrit  val^  valati  =  to  cover,  to  surround,  to  encircle, 
to  encoil  (symbol  of  the  snake)  ;  vallt  =  creeping  plant; 
tiluta  =  boa-constrictor  =  Latin  volutus,  Lithuanian  velu, 
velti  =  wickeln  (to  roll  up);  Church  Slavonian  vlina  =^ 
Old  High  German,  wella  =  Welle  (wave  or  billow) .  To 
the  root  velu  also  belongs  the  root  vivo,  with  the  mean- 
ing "  cover,  corium,  womb."  (The  serpent  on  account  of 
its  casting  its  skin  is  an  excellent  symbol  of  rebirth.) 
Sanskrit  ulva,  ulba  has  the  same  meaning;  Latin  volva, 
volvula,  vulva.  To  velu  also  belongs  the  root  ulvord, 
with  the  meaning  of  "  fruitful  field,  covering  or  husk 
of  plants,  sheath."  Sanskrit  urvdrd  =  sown  field.  Zend 
urvara  =  plant.  (See  the  personification  of  the  ploughed 
furrow.)  The  same  root  vel  has  also  the  meaning  of 
"  wallen  "  (to  undulate) .  Sanskrit  ulmuka  =  conflagra- 
tion. FaXea,  FeXa,  Gothic  vulan  =  wallen  (to  undulate). 
Old  High  German  and  Middle  High  German  wahn  = 
heat,  glow.**®  It  is  typical  that  in  the  state  of  "  involu- 
tion "  the  hair  of  the  sun-hero  always  falls  out  from  the 
heat.  Further  the  root  vel  is  found  with  the  meaning 
"  to  sound,*^^  and  to  will,  to  wish"  (libido!). 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    277 

The  motive  of  encoiling  is  mother  symbolism/"  This 
is  verified  by  the  fact  that  the  trees,  for  example,  bring 
forth  again  (like  the  whale  in  the  legend  of  Jonah). 
They  do  that  very  generally,  thus  in  the  Greek  legend 
the  MeXiai  vvfxcpai*  of  the  ash  trees  are  the  mothers  of 
the  race  of  men  of  the  Iron  Age.  In  northern  mythology, 
Askr,  the  ash  tree,  is  the  primitive  father.  His  wife, 
Embla,  is  the  "  Emsige,"  the  active  one,  and  not,  as  was 
earlier  believed,  the  aspen.  Askr  probably  means,  in  the 
first  place,  the  phallic  spear  of  the  ash  tree.  (Compare 
the  Sabine  custom  of  parting  the  bride's  hair  with  the 
lance.)  The  Bundehesh  symbolizes  the  first  people, 
Meschia  and  Meschiane,  as  the  tree  Reivas,  one  part  of 
which  places  a  branch  in  a  hole  of  the  other  part.  The 
material  which,  according  to  the  northern  myth,  was  ani- 
mated by  the  god  when  he  created  men  ^^  is  designated 
as  tre  =  wood,  tree.'^  I  recall  also  vX7]  =  wood,  which  in 
Latin  is  called  materia.  In  the  wood  of  the  "  world-ash," 
Ygdrasil,  a  human  pair  hid  themselves  at  the  end  of  the 
world,  from  whom  sprang  the  race  of  the  renewed 
world. "^  The  Noah  motive  is  easily  recognized  in  this 
conception  (the  night  journey  on  the  sea)  ;  at  the  same 
time,  in  the  symbol  of  Ygdrasil,  a  mother  idea  is  again 
apparent.  At  the  moment  of  the  destruction  of  the  world 
the  "  world-ash  "  becomes  the  guardian  mother,  the  tree 
of  death  and  life,  one  ^^iyuoXTtiovJ^^  ^*  This  function  of 
rebirth  of  the  "  world-ash  "  also  helps  to  elucidate  the 
representation  met  with  in  the  Egyptian  Book  of  the 

*  Melian  Virgins.  t  Pregnant. 


278       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Dead,  which  is  called  "  the  gate  of  knowledge  of  the 
soul  of  the  East  "  : 

"  I  am  the  pilot  in  the  holy  keel,  I  am  the  steersman  who  allows 
no  rest  in  the  ship  of  Ra.'^  I  know  that  tree  of  emerald  green 
from  whose  midst  Ra  rises  to  the  height  of  the  clouds.'"* 

Ship  and  tree  of  the  dead  (death  ship  and  death  tree) 
are  here  closely  connected.  The  conception  is  that  Ra, 
born  from  the  tree,  ascends  (Osiris  in  the  Erika).  The 
representation  of  the  sun-god  Mithra  is  probably  ex- 
plained in  the  same  way.  He  is  represented  upon  the 
Heddernheim  relief,  with  half  his  body  arising  from  the 
top  of  a  tree.  (In  the  same  way  numerous  other  monu- 
ments show  Mithra  half  embodied  in  the  rock,  and  illus- 
trate a  rock  birth,  similar  to  Men.)  Frequently  there  is 
a  stream  near  the  birthplace  of  Mithra.  This  con- 
glomeration of  symbols  is  also  found  in  the  birth  of 
Aschanes,  the  first  Saxon  king,  who  grew  from  the  Harz 
rocks,  which  are  in  the  midst  of  the  wood  ' '  near  a  foun- 
_,.ta;in-"'\  Here  we  find  all  the  mother  symbols  united — 
earth,  wood,  water,  three  forms  of  tangible  matter.  We 
can  wonder  no  longer  that  in  the  Middle  Ages  the  tree 
was  poetically  addressed  with  the  title  of  honor,  "  mis- 
tress." Likewise  it  is  not  astonishing  that  the  Christian 
legend  transformed  the  tree  of  death,  the  cross,  into 
the  tree  of  life,  so  that  Christ  was  often  represented  on 
I  a  living  and  fruit-bearing  tree.  This  reversion  of  the 
/  cross  symbol  to  the  tree  of  life,  which  even  in  Babylon 
Lwas  an  important  and  authentic  religious  symbol,  is  also 
considered  entirely  probable  by  Zockler,"  an  authority 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    279 

on  the  history  of  the  cross.  The  pre-Christian  meaning 
of  the  symbol  does  not  contradict  this  interpretation;  on 
the  contrary,  its  meaning  is  life.  The  appearance  of  the 
cross  in  the  sun  worship  (here  the  cross  with  equal  arms, 
and  the  swastika  cross,  as  representative  of  the  sun's 
rays),  as  well  as  in  the  cult  of  the  goddess  of  love  (Isis 
with  the  crux  ansata,  the  rope,  the  speculum  veneris  $ , 
etc.),  in  no  way  contradicts  the  previous  historical  mean- 
ing. The  Christian  legend  has  made  abundant  use  of  this 
symbolism. 

The  student  of  mediaeval  history  is  familiar  with  the 
representation  of  the  cross  growing  above  the  grave  of 
Adam.  The  legend  was  that  Adam  was  buried  on  Gol- 
gotha. Seth  had  planted  on  his  grave  a  branch  of  the 
"  paradise  tree,"  which  became  the  cross  and  tree  of 
death  of  Christ.^**  We  all  know  that  through  Adam's 
guilt  sin  and  death  came  into  the  world,  and  Christ 
through  his  death  has  redeemed  us  from  the  guilt.  To 
the  question  in  what  had  Adam's  guilt  consisted  it  is  said 
that  the  unpardonable  sin  to  be  expiated  by  death  was 
that  he  dared  to  pick  a  fruit  from  the  paradise  tree.^^ 
The  results  of  this  are  described  in  an  Oriental  legend. 
One  to  whom  it  was  permitted  to  cast  one  look  into 
Paradise  after  the  fall  saw  the  tree  there  and  the  four 
streams.  But  the  tree  was  withered,  and  in  its  branches 
lay  an  infant.     (The  mother  had  become  pregnant.*^) 

This  remarkable  legend  corresponds  to  the  Talmudic 
tradition  that  Adam,  before  Eve,  already  possessed  a 
demon  wife,  by  name  Lilith,  with  whom  he  quarrelled  for 
mastership.    But  Lilith  raised  herself  into  the  air  through 


28o       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

the  magic  of  the  name  of  God  and  hid  herself  In  the  sea. 
Adam  forced  her  back  with  the  help  of  three  angels. ^^ 
Lilith  became  a  nightmare,  a  Lamia,  who  threatened  those 
with  child  and  who  kidnapped  the  newborn  child.  The 
parallel  myth  is  that  of  the  Lamias,  the  spectres  of  the 
night,  who  terrified  the  children.  The  original  legend  is 
that  Lamia  enticed  Zeus,  but  the  jealous  Hera,  however, 
caused  Lamia  to  bring  only  dead  children  Into  the  world. 
Since  that  time  the  raging  Lamia  is  the  persecutor  of 
children,  whom  she  destroys  wherever  she  can.  This 
motive  frequently  recurs  in  fairy  tales,  where  the  mother 
often  appears  directly  as  a  murderess  or  as  a  devourer 
of  men;  ^*  a  German  paradigm  is  the  well-known  tale  of 
Hansel  and  Gretel.  Lamia  is  actually  a  large,  voracious 
fish,  which  establishes  the  connection  with  the  whale- 
dragon  myth  so  beautifully  worked  out  by  Frobenius,  in 
which  the  sea  monster  devours  the  sun-hero  for  rebirth 
and  where  the  hero  must  employ  every  stratagem  to  con- 
quer the  monster.  Here  again  we  meet  with  the  idea  of 
the  "  terrible  mother  "  in  the  form  of  the  voracious  fish, 
the  mouth  of  death. ®^  In  Frobenius  there  are  numerous 
examples  where  the  monster  has  devoured  not  only  men 
but  also  animals,  plants,  an  entire  country,  all  of  which 
are  redeemed  by  the  hero  to  a  glorious  rebirth. 

The  Lamias  are  typical  nightmares,  the  feminine  nature 
of  which  is  abundantly  proven.^®  Their  universal  pecu- 
liarity is  that  they  ride  upon  their  victims.  Their  coun- 
terparts are  the  spectral  horses  which  bear  their  riders 
along  in  a  mad  gallop.  One  recognizes  very  easily  in 
these  symbolic  forms  the  type  of  anxious  dream  which, 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    281 

as  Rlklin  shows,"  has  already  become  Important  for  the 
interpretation  of  fairy  tales  through  the  investigation  of 
Lalstner.^*  The  typical  riding  takes  on  a  special  aspect 
through  the  results  of  the  analytic  investigation  of  in- 
fantile psychology;  the  two  contributions  of  Freud  and 
myself  ^®  have  emphasized,  on  one  side,  the  anxiety  sig- 
nificance of  the  horse,  on  the  other  side  the  sexual  mean- 
ing of  the  phantasy  of  riding.  When  we  take  these  expe- 
riences Into  consideration,  we  need  no  longer  be  surprised 
that  the  maternal  "  world-ash  "  Ygdrasll  is  called  in  Ger- 
man "  the  frightful  horse."  Cannegleter  ^°  says  of  night- 
mares: 

"  Abigunt  eas  nymphas  (matres  deas,  mairas)  hodie  rustici  osse 
capitis  equini  tectis  injecto,  cujusmodi  ossa  per  has  terras  in 
rusticorum  villis  crebra  est  animadvertere.  Nocte  autem  ad  con- 
cubia  equitare  creduntur  et  equos  fatigare  ad  longinqua  itinera."  * 

The  connection  of  nightmare  and  horse  seems,  at  first 
glance,  to  be  present  also  etymologically — nightmare  and 
mare.  The  Indo-Germanic  root  for  mare  is  mark. 
Mare  is  the  horse,  English  mare;  Old  High  German 
mar  ah  (male  horse)  and  meriha  (female  horse)  ;  Old 
Norse  merr  {mara  =^  mghtrnzre)  ;  Anglo-Saxon  myre 
(maira).  The  French  "  cauchmar  "  comes  from  calcare 
=  to  tread,  to  step  (of  iterative  meaning,  therefore,  "  to 
tread  "  or  press  down) .    It  was  also  said  of  the  cock  who 

*  Even  to-day  the  country  people  drive  off  these  nymphs  (mother  god- 
desses, Maira)  by  throwing  a  bone  of  the  head  of  a  horse  upon  the  roof — 
bones  of  this  kind  can  often  be  seen  throughout  the  land  on  the  farm- 
houses of  the  country  people.  By  night,  however,  they  are  believed  to  ride 
at  t'he  time  of  the  first  sleep,  and  they  are  believed  to  tire  out  their  horses 
by   long  journeys.  J 


282       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

stepped  upon  the  hen.  This  movement  is  also  typical  for 
the  nightmare;  therefore,  it  is  said  of  King  Vanlandi, 
"  Mara  trad  han,"  the  Mara  trod  on  him  in  sleep  even  to 
death.''^  A  synonym  for  nightmare  is  the  "  troll  "  or 
"  treter " ''^  (treader).  This  movement  {calcare)  is 
proven  again  by  the  experience  of  Freud  and  myself  with 
children,  where  a  special  infantile  sexual  significance  is 
attached  to  stepping  or  kicking. 

The  common  Aryan  root  mar  means  "  to  die  ";  there- 
fore, mara  the  "  dead  "  or  "  death."  From  this  results 
mors,  /<opo?  =  fate  (also  pioipa^^) .  As  is  well  known, 
the  Nornes  sitting  under  the  "  world-ash  "  personify  fate 
like  Clotho,  Lachesis  and  Atropos.  With  the  Celts  the 
conception  of  the  Fates  probably  passes  into  that  of 
maires  and  matrons,  which  had  a  divine  significance 
among  the  Germans.  A  well-known  passage  in  Julius 
Csesar  ("  De  Bello  Gallico,"  i:  50)  informs  us  of  this 
meaning  of  the  mother : 

"  Ut  matres  familias  eorum  sortibus  et  vaticinationibus  ^*  decla- 
rarent,  utrum  prcelium  committi  ex  usu  esset,  nee  ne."  * 

In  Slav  mara  means  "  witch  " ;  poln.  mora  =  demon, 
nightmare;  mor  or  more  (Swiss-German)  means  "  sow," 
also  as  an  insult.  The  Bohemian  miira  means  "  night- 
mare "  and  "  evening  moth,  Sphinx."  This  strange  con- 
nection is  explained  through  analysis  where  it  often 
occurs  that  animals  with  movable  shells  (Venus  shell)  or 
wings  are  utilized  for  very  transparent  reasons  as  sym- 
bols of  the  female  genitals. ''^    The  Sphingina  are  the  twi- 

*  That  these  matrons  should  declare  by  lots  whether  it  would  be  to  their 
advantage  or  not  to  engage  in  battle. 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    283 

light  moths;  they,  like  the  nightmare,  come  in  the  dark- 
ness. Finally,  it  is  to  be  observed  that  the  sacred  olive 
tree  of  Athens  is  called  " fxopia"  (that  was  derived  from 
fxopos).  Halirrhotios  wished  to  cut  down  the  tree,  but 
killed  himself  with  the  axe  in  the  attempt. 
The  sound  resemblance  of  mar,  mere  with  meer  —  sea 
and  Latin  mare  =  sea  is  remarkable,  although  etymologi- 
cally  accidental.  Might  it  refer  back  to  "  the  great  primi- 
tive idea  of  the  mother  "  who,  in  the  first  place,  meant  to 
us  our  individual  world  and  afterwards  became  the  sym- 
bol of  all  worlds?  Goethe  said  of  the  mothers:  "They 
are  encircled  by  images  of  all  creatures."  The  Chris- 
tians, too,  could  not  refrain  from  reuniting  their  mother 
of  God  with  water.  "  Ave  Maris  Stella  "  is  the  begin- 
ning of  a  hymn  to  Mary.  Then  again  it  is  the  horses 
of  Neptune  which  symbolize  the  waves  of  the  sea.  It  is 
probably  of  importance  that  the  infantile  word  ma-ma 
(mother's  breast)  is  repeated  in  its  initial  sound  in  all 
possible  languages,  and  that  the  mothers  of  two  religious 
heroes  are  called  Mary  and  Maya.  That  the  mother  is 
the  horse  of  the  child  is  to  be  seen  most  plainly  in  the 
primitive  custom  of  carrying  the  child  on  the  back  or  let- 
ting it  ride  on  the  hip.  Odin  hung  on  the  "  world- 
ash,"  the  mother,  his  "  horse  of  terror."  The  Egyptian 
sun-god  sits  on  the  back  of  his  mother,  the  heavenly 
cow. 

We  have  already  seen  that,  according  to  Egyptian  con- 
ceptions, Isis,  the  mother  of  god,  played  an  evil  trick  on 
the  sun-god  with  the  poisonous  snake;  also  Isis  behaved 
treacherously  toward  her  son  Horus  in  Plutarch's  tradi- 


284       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

tion.  That  Is,  Horus  vanquished  the  evil  Typhon,  who 
murdered  Osiris  treacherously  (terrible  mother  =  Ty- 
phon). Isis,  however,  set  him  free  again.  Horus  there- 
upon rebelled,  laid  hands  on  his  mother  and  tore  the  regal 
ornaments  from  her  head,  whereupon  Hermes  gave  her 
a  cow's  head.  Then  Horus  conquered  Typhon  a  second 
time.  Typhon,  in  the  Greek  legend,  is  a  monstrous 
dragon.  Even  without  this  confirmation  it  is  evident  that 
the  battle  of  Horus  is  the  typical  battle  of  the  sun-hero 
with  the  whale-dragon.  Of  the  latter  we  know  that  it  is 
a  symbol  of  the  "  dreadful  mother,"  of  the  voracious 
jaws  of  death,  where  men  are  dismembered  and  ground 
up."®  Whoever  vanquishes  this  monster  has  gained  a  new 
or  eternal  youth.  For  this  purpose  one  must,  in  spite  of 
all  dangers,  descend  into  the  belly  of  the  monster  "  (jour- 
ney to  hell)  and  spend  some  time  there.  (Imprisonment 
by  night  in  the  sea.) 

The  battle  with  the  night  serpent  signifies,  therefore, 
the  conquering  of  the  mother,  who  is  suspected  of  an  in- 
famous crime,  that  is,  the  betrayal  of  the  son.  A  full 
confirmation  of  the  connection  comes  to  us  through  the 
fragment  of  the  Babylonian  epic  of  the  creation,  discov- 
ered by  George  Smith,  mostly  from  the  library  of  Asur- 
banipal.  The  period  of  the  origin  of  the  text  was  prob- 
ably In  the  time  of  Hammurabi  (2,000  B.C.).  We 
learn  from  this  account  of  creation  ^^  that  the  sun-god  Ea, 
the  son  of  the  depths  of  the  waters  and  the  god  of  wis- 
dom,"'' had  conquered  Apsu.  Apsu  is  the  creator  of  the 
great  gods  (he  existed  in  the  beginning  in  a  sort  of  trinity 
with  Tiamat — the  mother  of  gods  and  Mumu,  his  vizier). 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    285 

Ea  conquered  the  father,  but  Tiamat  plotted  revenge. 
She  prepared  herself  for  battle  against  the  gods. 

"  Mother  Hubur,  who  created  everything, 
Procured  invincible  weapons,  gave  birth  to  giant  snakes 
With  pointed  teeth,  relentless  in  every  way; 
Filled  their  bellies  with  poison  instead  of  blood, 
Furious  gigantic  lizards,  clothed  them  with  horrors. 
Let  them  swell  with  the  splendor  of  horror,  formed  them  rearing, 
Whoever  sees  them  shall  die  of  terror. 
Their  bodies  shall  rear  without  turning  to  escape. 
She  arrayed  the  lizards,  dragons  and  Lahamen, 
Hurricanes,  mad  dogs,  scorpion  men. 
Mighty  storms,  fishmen  and  rams. 
With  relentless  weapons,  without  fear  of  conflict, 
Powerful  are  Tiamat's  commands,  irresistible  are  they. 

"  After  Tiamat  had  powerfully  done  her  work 
She  conceived  evil  against  the  gods,  her  descendants; 
In  order  to  revenge  Apsu,  Tiamat  did  evil. 
When  Ea  now  heard  this  thing 

He  became  painfully  anxious,  sorrowfully  he  sat  himself. 
He  went  to  the  father,  his  creator,  Ansar, 
To  relate  to  him  all  that  Tiamat  plotted. 
Tiamat,  our  mother,  has  taken  an  aversion  to  us. 
Has  prepared  a  riotous  mob,  furiously  raging." 

The  gods  finally  opposed  Marduk,  the  god  of  spring, 
the  victorious  sun,  against  the  fearful  host  of  Tiamat. 
Marduk  prepared  for  battle.  Of  his  chief  weapon,  which 
he  created,  it  is  said: 

"  He  created  the  evil  wind,  ImhuUu,  the  south  storm  and  the 
hurricane. 
The  fourth  wind,   the  seventh  wind,   the  whirlwind   and  the 

harmful  wind, 
Then  let  he  loose  the  winds,  which  he  had  created,  the  seven: 
To  cause  confusion  within  Tiamat,  they  followed  behind  him, 


286       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Then  the  lord  took  up  the  cyclone,  his  great  weapon; 
For  his  chariot  he  mounted  the  stormwind,  the  incomparable, 
the  terrible  one." 

His  chief  weapon  is  the  wind  and  a  net,  with  which  he 
will  entangle  Tiamat.  He  approaches  Tiamat  and  chal- 
lenges her  to  a  combat. 

"  Then  Tiamat  and  Marduk,  the  wise  one  of  the  gods,  came  to- 
gether, 
Rising  for  the  fight,  approaching  to  the  battle: 
Then  the  lord  spread  out  his  net  and  caught  her. 
He  let  loose  the  Imhullu  in  his  train  at  her  face, 
Then  Tiamat  now  opened  her  mouth  as  wide  as  she  could. 
He  let  the  Imljullu  rush  in  so  that  her  lips  could  not  close; 
With  the  raging  winds  he  filled  her  womb. 
Her  inward  parts  were  seized  and  she  opened  wide  her  mouth. 
He  touched  her  with  the  spear,  dismembered  her  body. 
He  slashed  her  inward  parts,  and  cut  out  her  heart. 
Subdued  her  and  put  an  end  to  her  life. 
He  threw  down  her  body  and  stepped  upon  it." 

After  Marduk  slew  the  mother,  he  devised  the  crea- 
tion of  the  world. 

"  There  the  lord  rested  contemplating  her  body. 
Then  divided  he  the  Colossus,  planning  wisely. 
He  cut  it  apart  like  a  flat  fish,  into  two  parts,^°° 
One  half  he  took  and  with  it  he  covered  the  Heavens." 

In  this  manner  Marduk  created  the  universe  from  the 
mother.  It  is  clearly  evident  that  the  killing  of  the 
mother-dragon  here  takes  place  under  the  idea  of  a  wind 
fecundation  with  negative  accompaniments. 

The  world  is  created  from  the  mother,  that  is  to  say, 
from  the  libido  taken  away  from  the  mother  through  sac- 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    287 

rifice.  We  shall  have  to  consider  this  significant  formula 
more  closely  in  the  last  chapter.  The  most  interesting 
parallels  to  this  primitive  myth  are  to  be  found  in  the 
literature  of  the  Old  Testament,  as  Gunkel  "^  has  bril- 
liantly pointed  out.  It  is  worth  while  to  trace  the  psy- 
chology of  these  parallels. 

Isaiah  li :  9 : 

(9)  "Awake,  awake,  put  on  strength,  O  arm  of  the  Lord; 
awake  as  in  the  ancient  days,  in  the  generation  of  old.  Art  thou 
not  it  that  hath  cut  Rahab,  and  wounded  the  dragon? 

(10)  "  Art  thou  not  it  which  hath  dried  the  sea,  the  waters  of 
the  great  deep,  that  hath  made  the  depths  of  the  sea  a  way  for 
the  ransomed  to  pass  over?" 

The  name  of  Rahab  is  frequently  used  for  Egypt  in 
the  Old  Testament,  also  dragon.  Isaiah,  chapter  xxx, 
verse  7,  calls  Egypt  "  the  silent  Rahab,"  and  means, 
therefore,  something  evil  and  hostile.  Rahab  is  the  well- 
known  whore  of  Jericho,  who  later,  as  the  wife  of  Prince 
Salma,  became  the  ancestress  of  Christ.  Here  Rahab 
appeared  as  the  old  dragon,  as  Tiamat,  against  whose 
evil  power  Marduk,  or  Jehovah,  marched  forth.  The 
expression  "  the  ransomed "  refers  to  the  Jews  freed 
from  bondage,  but  it  is  also  mythological,  for  the  hero 
again  frees  those  previously  devoured  by  the  whale. 
(Frobenius.) 

Psalm  Ixxxix:  10: 

"  Thou  hast  broken  Rahab  in  pieces,  as  one  that  is  slain." 

Job  xxvi:  12-13 : 

"  He  divideth  the  sea  with  his  power,  and  by  his  understanding 
he  smiteth  through  the  proud. 


288       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

"  By  his  spirit  he  hath  garnished  the  heavens,  his  hand  hath 
formed  the  crooked  serpent." 

Gunkel  places  Rahab  as  identical  with  Chaos,  that  is, 
the  same  as  Tiamat.  Gunkel  translates  "  the  breaking  to 
pieces  "  as  "  violation."  Tiamat  or  Rahab  as  the  mother 
is  also  the  whore.  Gilgamesh  treats  Ischtar  in  this  way 
when  he  accuses  her  of  whoredom.  This  insult  towards 
the  mother  is  very  familiar  to  us  from  dream  analysis. 
The  dragon  Rahab  appears  also  as  Leviathan,  the  water 
monster  (maternal  sea). 

Psalm  Ixxiv: 

(13)  "  Thou  didst  divide  the  sea  by  thy  strength:  thou  brakest 
the  heads  of  the  dragons  in  the  waters. 

(14)  "Thou  brakest  the  heads  of  Leviathan  in  pieces  and 
gavest  him  to  be  meat  to  the  people  inhabiting  the  wilderness. 

(15)  "Thou  didst  cleave  the  fountain  and  the  flood:  thou 
didst  dry  up  mighty  rivers." 

While  only  the  phallic  meaning  of  the  Leviathan  was 
emphasized  in  the  first  part  of  this  work,  we  now  discover 
also  the  maternal  meaning.    A  further  parallel  is: 

Isaiah  xxvii :  i : 

"  In  that  day,  the  Lord  with  his  cruel  and  great  and  strong 
sword  shall  punish  Leviathan,  the  piercing  serpent,  even  Leviathan 
that  crooked  serpent,  and  he  shall  slay  the  dragon  that  is  in  the 
sea." 

We  come  upon  a  special  motive  in  Job,  chap,  xli,  v.  i : 

"  Canst  thou  draw  out  Leviathan  with  an  hook?  or  his  tongue 
with  a  cord  which  thou  lettest  down?  Canst  thou  put  an  hook 
in  his  nose?  or  bore  his  jaw  through  with  a  thorn?  " 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    289 

Numerous  parallels  to  this  motive  are  to  be  found 
among  exotic  myths  in  Frobenius,  where  the  maternal  sea 
monster  was  also  fished  for.  The  comparison  of  the 
mother  libido  with  the  elementary  powers  of  the  sea 
and  the  powerful  monsters  borne  by  the  earth  show  how 
invincibly  great  is  the  power  of  that  libido  which  we  des- 
ignate as  maternal. 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  incest  prohibition  pre- 
vents the  son  from  reproducing  himself  through  the 
mother.  But  this  must  be  done  by  the  god,  as  is  shown 
with  remarkable  clearness  and  candor  in  the  pious  Egyp- 
tian mythology,  which  has  preserved  the  most  ancient  and 
simple  concepts.  Thus  Chnum,  the  "  moulder,"  the 
"  potter,"  the  "  architect,"  moulds  his  egg  upon  the  pot- 
ter's wheel,  for  he  is  "  the  immortal  growth,"  "  the  re- 
production of  himself  and  his  own  rebirth,  the  creator  of 
the  egg,  which  emerged  from  the  primitive  waters."  In 
the  Book,  of  the  Dead  it  says : 

"I  am  the  sublime  falcon  (the  Sun-god),  which  has  come 
forth  from  his  egg." 

Another  passage  in  the  Book  of  the  Dead  reads: 

"  I  am  the  creator  of  Nun,  who  has  taken  his  place  in  the 
underworld.     My  nest  is  not  seen  and  my  egg  is  not  broken." 

A  further  passage  reads : 

"  that  great  and  noble  god  in  his  egg:  who  is  his  own  originator 
of  that  which  has  arisen  from  him."  ^°^ 

Therefore,  the  god  Nagaga-uer  is  also  called  the 
"  great  cackler."     (Book  of  the  Dead.)     "  I  cackle  like 


y 


290       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

a  goose  and  I  whistle  like  a  falcon."  The  mother  is  re- 
proached with  the  incest  prohibition  as  an  act  of  wilful 
maliciousness  by  which  she  excludes  the  son  from  immor- 
tality. Therefore,  a  god  must  at  least  rebel,  overpower 
and  chastise  the  mother.  (Compare  Adam  and  Lilith, 
above.)  The  "overpowering"  signifies  incestuous 
rape.^"^  Herodotus  ^"^  has  preserved  for  us  a  valuable 
fragment  of  this  religious  phantasy. 

"  And  how  they  celebrate  their  feast  to  Isis  in  the  city  of 
Busiris,  I  have  already  previously  remarked.  After  the  sacrifice, 
all  of  them,  men  and  women,  full  ten  thousand  people,  begin  to 
beat  each  other.  But  it  would  be  sin  for  me  to  mention  for  whom 
they  do  beat  each  other. 

"  But  in  Papremis  they  celebrated  the  sacrifice  with  holy  actions, 
as  in  the  other  places.  About  the  time  when  the  sun  sets,  some 
few  priests  are  busy  around  the  image;  most  of  them  stand  at 
the  entrance  with  wooden  clubs,  and  others  who  would  fulfil  a 
vow,  more  than  a  thousand  men,  also  stand  in  a  group  with 
wooden  cudgels  opposite  them. 

"  Now  on  the  eve  of  the  festival,  they  take  the  image  out  in 
a  small  and  gilded  temple  into  another  sacred  edifice.  Then  the 
few  who  remain  with  the  image  draw  a  four-wheeled  chariot  upon 
which  the  temple  stands  with  the  image  which  it  encloses.  But 
the  others  who  stand  in  the  anterooms  are  not  allowed  to  enter. 
Those  under  a  vow,  who  stand  by  the  god,  beat  them  off.  Now 
occurs  a  furious  battle  with  clubs,  in  which  they  bruise  each  other's 
bodies  and  as  I  believe,  many  even  die  from  their  wounds:  not- 
withstanding this,  the  Egyptians  consider  that  none  die. 

"  The  natives  claim  that  this  festival  gathering  was  introduced 
for  the  following  reason:  In  this  sanctuary  lived  the  mother  of 
Ares.^°^  Now  Ares  was  brought  up  abroad  and  when  he  became 
a  man  he  came  to  have  intercourse  with  his  mother.  The  servants 
of  his  mother  who  had  seen  him  did  not  allow  him  to  enter  peace- 
fully, but  prevented  him ;  at  which  he  fetched  people  from  an- 
other city,  who  mistreated  the  servants  and  had  entrance  to  h^s 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    291 

mother.     Therefore,  they  asserted  that  this  slaughter  was  intro- 
duced at  the  feast  for  Ares." 

It  is  evident  that  the  pious  here  fight  their  way  to  a  share 
in  the  mystery  of  the  raping  of  the  mother."**  This  is  the 
part  which  belongs  to  them/°^  while  the  heroic  deed  be- 
longs to  thegod.^°®  ByAres  is  meant  the, Egyptian  Typhon, 
as  we  have  good  reasons  to  suppose.  Thus  Typhon  rep- 
resents the  evil  longing  for  the  mother  with  which  other 
myth  forms  reproach  the  mother,  according  to  the  well- 
known  example.  The  death  of  Balder,  quite  analogous 
to  the  death  of  Osiris  (attack  of  sickness  of  Re) ,  because 
of  the  wounding  by  the  branch  of  the  mistletoe,  seems  to 
need  a  similar  explanation.  It  is  recounted  in  the  myth 
how  all  creatures  were  pledged  not  to  hurt  Balder,  save 
only  the  mistletoe,  which  was  forgotten,  presumably  be- 
cause it  was  too  young.  This  killed  Balder.  Mistletoe 
is  a  parasite.  The  female  piece  of  wood  in  the  fire-boring 
ritual  was  obtained  "^  from  the  wood  of  a  parasitical  or 
creeping  plant,  the  fire  mother.  The  "  mare  "  rests  upon 
"  Marentak,"  in  which  Grimm  suspects  the  mistletoe. 
The  mistletoe  was  a  remedy  against  barrenness.  In  Gaul 
the  Druid  alone  was  allowed  to  climb  the  holy  oak  amid 
solemn  ceremonies  after  the  completed  sacrifice,  in  order 
to  cut  off  the  ritual  mistletoe. "°  This  act  is  a  religiously 
limited  and  organized  incest.  That  which  grows  on  the 
tree  is  the  child, ^^^  which  man  might  have  by  the  mother; 
then  man  himself  would  be  in  a  renewed  and  rejuvenated 
form;  and  precisely  this  is  what  man  cannot  have,  because 
the  incest  prohibition  forbids  it.  As  the  Celtic  custom 
shows,  the  act  is  performed  by  the  priest  only,  with  the 


292       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

observation  of  certain  ceremonies;  the  hero  god  and  the 
redeemer  of  the  world,  however,  do  the  unpermitted,  the 
superhuman  thing,  and  through  it  purchase  immortality. 
The  dragon,  who  must  be  overcome  for  this  purpose, 
means,  as  must  have  been  for  some  time  clearly  seen,  the 
resistance  against  the  incest.  Dragon  and  serpent,  espe- 
cially with  the  characteristic  accumulation  of  anxiety  at- 
tributes, are  the  symbolic  representations  of  anxiety 
which  correspond  to  the  repressed  incest  wish.  It  is, 
therefore,  intelligible,  when  we  come  across  the  tree  with 
the  snake  again  and  again  (in  Paradise  the  snake  even 
tempts  to  sin).  The  snake  or  dragon  possesses  in  par- 
ticular the  meaning  of  treasure  guardian  and  defender. 
The  phallic,  as  well  as  the  feminine,  meaning  of  the 
dragon  "-  indicates  that  it  is  again  a  symbol  of  the  sexual 
neutral  (or  bisexual)  libido,  that  is  to  say,  a  symbol  of  the 
libido  in  opposition.  In  this  significance  the  black  horse, 
Apaosha,  the  demon  of  opposition,  appears  in  the  old 
Persian  song,  Tishtriya,  where  it  obstructs  the  sources 
of  the  rain  lake.  The  white  horse  Tishtriya  makes  two 
futile  attempts  to  vanquish  Apaosha;  at  the  third  attempt, 
with  the  help  of  Ahuramazda,  he  is  successful. "''  Where- 
upon the  sluices  of  heaven  open  and  a  fruitful  rain  pours 
down  upon  the  earth."*  In  this  song  one  sees  very  beau- 
tifully In  the  choice  of  symbol  how  libido  is  opposed  to 
libido,  will  against  will,  the  discordance  of  primitive  man 
with  himself,  which  he  recognizes  again  in  all  the  ad- 
versity and  contrasts  of  external  nature. 

The  symbol  of  the  tree  encoiled  by  the  serpent  may 
also  be  translated  as  the  mother  defended  from  incest 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    293 

by  resistance.  This  symbol  is  by  no  means  rare  upon 
Mithraic  monuments.  The  rock  encircled  by  a  snake  is 
to  be  comprehended  similarly,  because  Mithra  is  one 
born  from  a  rock.  The  menace  of  the  new-born  by  the 
snake  (Mithra,  Hercules)  is  made  clear  through  the 
legend  of  Lilith  and  Lamia.  Python,  the  dragon  of  Leto, 
and  Poine,  who  devastates  the  land  of  Crotopus,  are  sent 
by  the  father  of  the  new-born.  This  idea  indicates  the 
localization,  well  known  in  psychoanalysis,  of  the  incest 
anxiety  in  the  father.  The  father  represents  the  active 
repulse  of  the  incest  wish  of  the  son.  The  crime,  un- 
consciously wished  for  by  the  son,  is  imputed  to  the  father 
under  the  guise  of  a  pretended  murderous  purpose,  this 
being  the  cause  of  the  mortal  fear  of  the  son  for  the 
father,  a  frequent  neurotic  symptom.  In  conformity  with 
this  idea,  the  monster  to  be  overcome  by  the  young  hero 
is  frequently  a  giant,  the  guardian  of  the  treasure  or  the 
woman.  A  striking  example  is  the  giant  Chumbaba  in 
the  Gilgamesh  epic,  who  protected  the  garden  of 
Ishtar;  "^  he  is  overcome  by  Gilgamesh,  whereby  Ishtar 
is  won.  Thereupon  she  makes  erotic  advances  towards 
Gilgamesh.""  This  data  should  be  sufficient  to  render 
intelligible  the  role  of  Horus  in  Plutarch,  especially  the 
violent  usage  of  Isis.  Through  overpowering  the  mother 
the  hero  becomes  equal  to  the  sun;  he  reproduces  him- 
self. He  wins  the  strength  of  the  invincible  sun,  the 
power  of  eternal  rejuvenation.  We  thus  understand  a 
series  of  representations  from  the  Mithraic  myth  on  the 
Heddernheim  relief.  There  we  see,  first  of  all,  the  birth 
of  Mithra  from  the  top  of  the  tree;  the  next  representa- 


294       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

tion  shows  him  carrying  the  conquered  bull  (comparable 
to  the  monstrous  bull  overcome  by  Gilgamesh).  This 
bull  signifies  the  concentrated  significance  of  the  monster, 
the  father,  who  as  giant  and  dangerous  animal  embodies 
the  incest  prohibition,  and  agrees  with  the  individual 
libido  of  the  sun-hero,  which  he  overcomes  by  self-sacri- 
fice. The  third  picture  represents  Mithra,  when  he 
grasps  the  head  ornament  of  the  sun,  the  nimbus.  This 
act  recalls  to  us,  first  of  all,  the  violence  of  Horus  towards 
Isis;  secondly,  the  Christian  basic  thought,  that  those  who 
have  overcome  attain  the  crown  of  eternal  life.  On  the 
fourth  picture  Sol  kneels  before  Mithra.  These  last  two 
representations  show  plainly  that  Mithra  has  taken  to 
himself  the  strength  of  the  sun,  so  that  he  becomes  the 
lord  of  the  sun  as  well.  He  has  conquered  "  his  animal 
nature,"  the  bull.  The  animal  knows  no  incest  prohibi- 
tion; man  is,  therefore,  man  because  he  conquers  the 
incest  wish,  that  is,  the  animal  nature.  Thus  Mithra  has 
sacrificed  his  animal  nature,  the  incest  wish,  and  with  that 
has  overcome  the  mother,  that  is  to  say,  "  the  terrible 
death-bringing  mother."  A  solution  is  already  antici- 
pated in  the  Gilgamesh  epic  through  the  formal  renuncia- 
tion of  the  horrible  Ishtar  by  the  hero.  The  overcoming 
of  the  mother  in  the  Mithraic  sacrifice,  which  had  almost 
an  ascetic  character,  took  place  no  longer  by  the  archaic 
overpowering,  but  through  the  renunciation,  the  sacrifice 
of  the  wish.  The  primitive  thought  of  incestuous  repro- 
duction through  entrance  into  the  mother's  womb  had 
already  been  displaced,  because  man  was  so  far  advanced 
In  domestication  that  he  believed  that  the  eternal  life  of 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    295 

the  sun  is  reached,  not  through  the  perpetration  of  incest, 
but  through  the  sacrifice  of  the  incest  wish.  This  impor- 
tant change  expressed  in  the  Mithraic  mystery  finds  its 
full  expression  for  the  first  time  in  the  symbol  of  the 
crucified  God.  A  bleeding  human  sacrifice  was  hung  on 
the  tree  of  life  for  Adam's  sins."^  The  first-born  sacri- 
fices its  life  to  the  mother  when  he  suffers,  hanging  on  the 
branch,  a  disgraceful  and  painful  death,  a  mode  of  death 
which  belongs  to  the  most  ignominious  forms  of  execution, 
which  Roman  antiquity  had  reserved  for  only  the  lowest 
criminal.  Thus  the  hero  dies,  as  if  he  had  committed  the 
most  shameful  crime;  he  does  this  by  returning  into  the 
birth-giving  branch  of  the  tree  of  life,  at  the  same  time 
paying  for  his  guilt  with  the  pangs  of  death.  The  animal 
nature  is  repressed  most  powerfully  in  this  deed  of  the 
highest  courage  and  the  greatest  renunciation;  therefore, 
a  greater  salvation  is  to  be  expected  for  humanity,  be- 

j  cause  such  a  deed  alone  seems  appropriate  to  expiate 

|_Adam's  guilt. 

As  has  already  been  mentioned,  the  hanging  of  the 
sacrifice  on  the  tree  is  a  generally  widespread  ritual  cus- 
tom, Germanic  examples  being  especially  abundant.  The 
ritual  consists  in  the  sacrifice  being  pierced  by  a  spear.^^^ 
Thus  it  is  said  of  Odin  (Edda,  Havamal)  : 

"  I  know  that  I  hung  on  the  windswept  tree 
Nine  nights  through, 
Wounded  by  a  spear,  dedicated  to  Odin 
I  myself  to  myself." 

The  hanging  of  the  sacrifice  to  the  cross  also  occurred 
in  America  prior  to  its  discovery.     Miiller  ^^^  mentions  the 


296       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Fejervaryian  manuscript  (a  Mexican  hieroglyphic kodex), 
at  the  conclusion  of  which  there  is  a  colossal  cross,  in  the 
middle  of  which  there  hangs  a  bleeding  divinity.  Equally 
interesting  is  the  cross  of  Palenque ;  ^-'^  up  above  is  a 
bird,  on  either  side  two  human  figures,  who  look  at  the 
cross  and  hold  a  child  against  it  either  for  sacrifice  or 
baptism.  The  old  Mexicans  are  said  to  have  invoked  the 
favor  of  Centeotls,  "  the  daughter  of  heaven  and  the 
goddess  of  wheat,"  every  spring  by  nailing  upon  the  cross 
a  youth  or  a  maiden  and  by  shooting  the  sacrifice  with 
arrows. ^"^  The  name  of  the  Mexican  cross  signifies 
"  tree  of  our  life  or  flesh."  ^" 

An  effigy  from  the  Island  of  Philae  represents  Osiris 
in  the  form  of  a  crucified  god,  wept  over  by  Isis  and 
Nephthys,  the  sister  consort.^"^ 

The  meaning  of  the  cross  is  certainly  not  limited  to 
the  tree  of  life,  as  has  already  been  shown.  Just  as  the 
tree  of  life  has  also  a  phallic  sub-meaning  (as  libido  sym- 
bol), so  there  is  a  further  significance  to  the  cross  than 
life  and  immortality.^-*  Miiller  uses  it  as  a  sign  of  rain 
and  of  fertility,  because  it  appears  among  the  Indians 
distinctly  as  a  magic  charm  of  fertility.  It  goes  without 
saying,  therefore,  that  it  plays  a  role  in  the  sun  cult.  It 
is  also  noteworthy  that  the  sign  of  the  cross  is  an  impor- 
tant sign  for  the  keeping  away  of  all  evil,  like  the  ancient 
gesture  of  Manofica.  The  phallic  amulets  also  serve  the 
same  purpose.  Zockler  appears  to  have  overlooked  the 
fact  that  the  phallic  Crux  Ansata  is  the  same  cross  which 
has  flourished  in  countless  examples  in  the  soil  of  an- 
tiquity.    Copies  of  this  Crux  Ansata  are  found  in  many 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH     297 

places,   and   almost   every  collection   of   antiquities   pos- 
sesses one  or  more  specimens/"^ 

Finally,  it  must  be  mentioned  that  the  form  of  the 
human  body  is  imitated  in  the  cross  as  of  a  man  with 
arms  outspread.  It  is  remarkable  that  in  early  Christian 
representations  Christ  is  not  nailed  to  the  cross,  but 
stands  before  it  with  arms  outstretched/"*^  Maurice  ^-^ 
gives  a  striking  basis  for  this  interpretation  when  he  says : 

"  It  is  a  fact  not  less  remarkable  than  well  attested,  that  the 
Druids  in  their  groves  were  accustomed  to  select  the  most  stately 
and  beautiful  tree  as  an  emblem  of  the  deity  they  adored,  and 
cutting  off  the  side  branches,  they  affixed  two  of  the  largest  of 
them  to  the  highest  part  of  the  trunk,  in  such  a  manner  that  those 
branches  extended  on  each  side  like  the  arms  of  a  man,  and  to- 
gether with  the  body  presented  the  appearance  of  a  huge  cross; 
and  in  the  bark  in  several  places  was  also  inscribed  the  letter  T 
(tau)."^2« 

"  The  tree  of  knowledge  "  of  the  Hindoo  Dschaina 
sect  assumes  human  form;  it  was  represented  as  a  mighty, 
thick  trunk  in  the  form  of  a  human  head,  from  the  top 
of  which  grew  out  two  longer  branches  hanging  down  at 
the  sides  and  one  short,  vertical,  uprising  branch  crowned 
by  a  bud  or  blossom-like  thickening.^"^  Robertson  in 
his  "  Evangelical  Myths  "  mentions  that  In  the  Assyrian 
system  there  exists  the  representation  of  the  divinity  in 
the  form  of  a  cross,  in  which  the  vertical  beam  corre- 
sponds to  a  human  form  and  the  horizontal  beam  to  a 
pair  of  conventionalized  wings.  Old  Grecian  idols  such, 
for  example,  as  were  found  in  large  numbers  in  Aegina 
have  a  similar  character,  an  immoderately  long  head  and 


298       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

arms  slightly  raised,  wing-shaped,  and  In  front  distinct 
breasts/"** 

I  must  leave  It  an  open  question  as  to  whether  the 
symbol  of  the  cross  has  any  relation  to  the  two  pieces 
of  wood  In  the  religious  fire  production,  as  is  frequently 
claimed.  It  does  appear,  however,  as  if  the  cross  symbol 
actually  still  possessed  the  significance  of  "  union,"  for 
this  Idea  belongs  to  the  fertility  charm,  and  especially  to 
the  thought  of  eternal  rebirth,  which  is  most  Intimately 
bound  up  with  the  cross.  The  thought  of  "  union,"  ex- 
pressed by  the  symbol  of  the  cross,  is  met  with  in 
"  TImaios  "  of  Plato,  where  the  world  soul  Is  conceived 
as  stretched  out  between  heaven  and  earth  in  the  form 
of  an  X  (Chi)  ;  hence  In  the  form  of  a  "  St.  Andrew's 
cross."  When  we  now  learn,  furthermore,  that  the 
world  soul  contains  In  Itself  the  world  as  a  body,  then  this 
picture  inevitably  reminds  us  of  the  mother. 

{Dialogues  of  Plato.  Jowett,  Vol.  II,  page  528.) 
"  And  in  the  center  he  put  the  soul,  which  he  diffused  through 
the  whole,  and  also  spread  over  all  the  body  round  about,  and 
he  made  one  solitary  and  only  heaven,  a  circle  moving  in  a  circle, 
having  such  excellence  as  to  be  able  to  hold  converse  with  itself, 
and  needing  no  other  friendship  or  acquaintance.  Having  these 
purposes  in  view  he  created  the  world  to  be  a  blessed  god." 

This  highest  degree  of  inactivity  and  freedom  from 
desire,  symbolized  by  the  being  enclosed  within  itself,  sig- 
nifies divine  blessedness.  The  only  human  prototype  of 
this  conception  is  the  child  in  the  mother's  womb,  or 
rather  more,  the  adult  man  In  the  continuous  embrace  of 
the  mother,  from  whom  he  originates.     Corresponding  to 


I 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH     299 

this  mythologic-philosophic  conception,  the  enviable  Dio- 
genes inhabited  a  tub,  thus  giving  mythologic  expression 
to  the  blessedness  and  resemblance  to  the  Divine  in  his 
freedom  from  desire.  Plato  says  as  follows  of  the  bond 
of  the  world  soul  to  the  world  body : 

"  Now  God  did  not  make  the  soul  after  the  body,  although  we 
have  spoken  of  them  in  this  order ;  for  when  he  put  them  together 
he  would  never  have  allowed  that  the  elder  should  serve  the 
younger,  but  this  is  what  we  say  at  random,  because  we  ourselves 
too  are  very  largely  affected  by  chance.  Whereas  he  made  the 
soul  in  origin  and  excellence  prior  to  and  older  than  the  body, 
to  be  the  ruler  and  mistress,  of  whom  the  body  was  to  be  the 
subject." 

It  seems  conceivable  from  other  indications  that  the 
conception  of  the  soul  in  general  is  a  derivative  of  the 
mother-imago,  that  is  to  say,  a  symbolic  designation  for 
the  amount  of  libido  remaining  in  the  mother-imago. 
(Compare  the  Christian  representation  of  the  soul  as  the 
bride  of  Christ.)  The  further  development  of  the  world 
soul  in  "  Timaios  "  takes  place  in  an  obscure  fashion  in 
mystic  numerals.  When  the  mixture  was  completed  the 
following  occurred: 

"  This  entire  compound  he  divided  lengthways  into  two  parts, 
which  he  joined  to  one  another  at  the  center  like  the  figure  of 
an  X." 

This  passage  approaches  very  closely  the  division  and 
union  of  Atman,  who,  after  the  division,  is  compared  to 
a  man  and  a  woman  who  hold  each  other  in  an  embrace. 
Another  passage  is  worth  mentioning: 


300       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

"  After  the  entire  union  of  the  soul  had  taken  place,  according 
to  the  master's  mind,  he  formed  all  that  is  corporeal  within  this, 
and  joined  it  together  so  as  to  penetrate  it  throughout." 

Moreover,  I  refer  to  my  remarks  about  the  maternal 
meaning  of  the  world  soul  in  Plotinus,  in  Chapter  II. 

A  similar  detachment  of  the  symbol  of  the  cross  from  a 
concrete  figure  we  find  among  the  Muskhogean  Indians, 
who  stretch  above  the  surface  of  the  water  (pond  or 
stream)  two  ropes  crosswise  and  at  the  point  of  intersec- 
tion throw  into  the  water  fruits,  oil  and  precious  stones  as 
a  sacrifice. ^^^  Here  the  divinity  is  evidently  the  water,  not 
the  cross,  which  designates  the  place  of  sacrifice  only, 
through  the  point  of  intersection.  The  sacrifice  at  the 
place  of  union  indicates  why  this  symbol  was  a  primitive 
charm  of  fertility,^"^  why  we  meet  it  so  frequently  in  the 
prechristian  era  among  the  goddesses  of  love  (mother 
goddesses),  especially  among  the  Egyptians  in  Isis  and 
the  sun-god.  We  have  already  discussed  the  continuous 
union  of  these  two  divinities.  As  the  cross  (Tau  [T], 
Crux  Ansata)  always  recurs  in  the  hand  of  Tum,  the 
supreme  God,  the  hegemon  of  the  Ennead,  it  may  not  be 
superfluous  to  say  something  more  of  the  destination  of 
Tum.  The  Tum  of  On-Heliopolis  bears  the  name  "  the 
father  of  his  mother";  what  that  means  needs  no  ex- 
planation; Jusas  or  Nebit-Hotpet,  the  goddess  joined  to 
him,  was  called  sometimes  the  mother,  sometimes  the 
daughter,  sometimes  the  wife  of  the  god.  The  day  of 
the  beginning  of  autumn  is  designated  in  the  Heliopolitan 
inscriptions  as  the  "  festival  of  the  goddess  Jusasit,"  as 
"  the  arrival  of  the  sister  for  the  purpose  of  uniting  with 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH    301 

her  father."  It  Is  the  day  in  which  "  the  goddess  Mehnit 
completes  her  work,  so  that  the  god  Osiris  may  enter 
Into  the  left  eye."  (By  which  the  moon  Is  meant.^"") 
The  day  Is  also  called  the  filling  up  of  the  sacred  eye 
with  Its  needs.  The  heavenly  cow  with  the  moon  eye, 
the  cow-headed  Isis,  takes  to  herself  In  the  autumn 
equinox  the  seed  which  procreates  Horus.  (Moon  as 
keeper  of  the  seed.)  The  "  eye  "  evidently  represents 
the  genitals,  as  In  the  myth  of  Indra,  who  had  to  bear 
spread  over  his  whole  body  the  likeness  of  Yoni  (vulva), 
on  account  of  a  Bathsheba  outrage,  but  was  so  far  par- 
doned by  the  gods  that  the  disgraceful  likeness  of  YonI 
was  changed  Into  eyes.^^*  The  "  pupil  "  In  the  eye  is  a 
child.  The  great  god  becomes  a  child  again;  he  enters 
the  mother's  womb  In  order  to  renew  himself."^  In  a 
hymn  it  is  said: 

"  Thy  mother,  the  heavens,  stretches  forth  her  arms  to  thee." 

In  another  place  It  Is  said: 

"  Thou  shinest,  oh  father  of  the  gods,  upon  the  back  of  thy 
mother,  daily  thy  mother  takes  thee  in  her  arms.  When  thou 
illuminatest  the  dwelling  of  night,  thou  unitest  with  thy  mother, 
the  heavens.""*' 

The  Tum  of  PItum-HellopolIs  not  only  bears  the  Crux 
Ansata  as  a  symbol,  but  also  has  this  sign  as  his  most 
frequent  surname,  that  is,  anX  or  anli,  which  means 
"  life  "  or  "  the  living."  He  is  chiefly  honored  as  the 
demon  serpent,  Agatho,  of  whom  it  is  said,  "  The  holy 
demon  serpent  Agatho  goes  forth  from  the  city  Nezi." 
The  snake,  on  account  of  casting  its  skin.  Is  the  symbol 


302       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

of  renewal,  as  is  the  scarabaeus,  a  symbol  of  the  sun,  of 
whom  it  is  said  that  he,  being  of  masculine  sex  only,  re- 
produces himself. 

The  name  Chnum  (another  name  for  Tum,  always 
meaning  "the  sun-god")  comes  from  the  verb  ;i:num, 
which  means  "  to  bind  together,  to  unite."  ^"  Chnum 
appears  chiefly  as  the  potter,  the  moulder  of  his  egg. 
The  cross  seems,  therefore,  to  be  an  extraordinarily  con- 
densed symbol;  its  supreme  meaning  is  that  of  the  tree 
of  life,  and,  therefore,  is  a  symbol  of  the  mother.  The 
symbolization  in  a  human  form  is,  therefore,  intelligible. 
The  phallic  forms  of  the  Crux  Ansata  belong  to  the  ab- 
stract meaning  of  "  life  "  and  "  fertility,"  as  well  as  to 
the  meaning  of  "  union,"  which  we  can  now  very  properly 
interpret  as  cohabitation  with  the  mother  for  the  purpose 
of  renewal.^^^  It  is,  therefore,  not  only  a  very  touching 
but  also  a  very  significant  naive  symbolism  when  Mary, 
in  an  Old  English  lament  of  the  Virgin, ^^^  accuses  the  cross 
of  being  a  false  tree,  which  unjustly  and  without  reason 
destroyed  "  the  pure  fruit  of  her  body,  her  gentle  bird- 
ling,"  with  a  poisonous  draught,  the  draught  of  death, 
which  is  destined  only  for  the  guilty  descendants  of  the 
sinner  Adam.  Her  son  was  not  a  sharer  in  that  guilt. 
(Compare  with  this  the  cunning  of  Isis  with  the  fatal 
draught  of  love.)     Mary  laments : 

"  Cross,  thou  art  the  evil  stepmother  of  my  son,  so  high  hast 
thou  hung  him  that  1  cannot  even  kiss  his  feet!  Cross,  thou  art 
my  mortal  enemy,  thou  hast  slain  my  little  blue  bird!  " 

The  holy  cross  answers : 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH     303 

"  Woman,  I  thank  thee  for  my  honor:  thy  splendid  fruit,  which 
now  I  bear,  shines  as  a  red  blossom. ^'"^  Not  alone  to  save  thee 
but  to  save  the  whole  world  this  precious  flower  blooms  in  thee."  ^*^ 

Santa  Crux  says  of  the  relation  to  each  other  of  the 
two  mothers  (Isis  in  the  morning  and  Isis  in  the  even- 
ing) : 

"  Thou  hast  been  crowned  as  Queen  of  Heaven  on  account  of 
the  child,  which  thou  hast  borne.  But  I  shall  appear  as  the  shining 
relic  to  the  whole  world,  at  the  day  of  judgment.  I  shall  then 
raise  my  lament  for  thy  divine  son  innocently  slain  upon  me." 

Thus  the  murderous  mother  of  death  unites  with  the 
mother  of  life  in  bringing  forth  a  child.  In  their  lament 
for  the  dying  God,  and  as  outward  token  of  their  union, 
Mary  kisses  the  cross,  and  is  reconciled  to  it.""  The 
naive  Egyptian  antiquity  has  preserved  for  us  the  union 
of  the  contrasting  tendencies  in  the  mother  idea  of  Isis. 
Naturally  this  imago  is  merely  a  symbol  of  the  libido  of 
the  son  for  the  mother,  and  describes  the  conflict  be- 
tween love  and  incest  resistance.  The  criminal  incestuous 
purpose  of  the  son  appears  projected  as  criminal  cunning 
in  the  mother-imago.  The  separation  of  the  son  from 
the  mother  signifies  the  separation  of  man  from  the 
generic  consciousness  of  animals,  from  that  infantile 
archaic  thought  characterized  by  the  absence  of  individual 
consciousness. 

It  was  only  the  power  of  the  incest  prohibition  which 
created  the  self-conscious  individual,  who  formerly  had 
been  thoughtlessly  one  with  the  tribe,  and  in  this  way 
alone  did  the  idea  of  individual  and  final  death  become 


304       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

possible.  Thus  through  the  sin  of  Adam  death  came  into 
the  world.  This,  as  is  evident,  is  expressed  figuratively, 
that  is,  in  contrast  form.  The  mother's  defence  against 
the  incest  appears  to  the  son  as  a  malicious  act,  which 
delivers  him  over  to  the  fear  of  death.  This  conflict  faces 
us  in  the  Gilgamesh  epic  in  its  original  freshness  and 
passion,  where  also  the  incest  wish  is  projected  onto  the 
mother. 

The  neurotic  who  cannot  leave  the  mother  has  good 
reasons;  the  fear  of  death  holds  him  there.  It  seems  as 
if  no  idea  and  no  word  were  strong  enough  to  express 
the  meaning  of  this.  Entire  religions  were  constructed 
in  order  to  give  words  to  the  immensity  of  this  conflict. 
This  struggle  for  expression  which  continued  down 
through  the  centuries  certainly  cannot  have  its  source 
in  the  restricted  realm  of  the  vulgar  conception  of  incest. 
Rather  one  must  understand  the  law  which  is  ultimately 
expressed  as  "  Incest  prohibition  "  as  coercion  to  domes- 
tication, and  consider  the  religious  systems  as  institutions 
which  first  receive,  then  organize  and  gradually  sublimate, 
the  motor  forces  of  the  animal  nature  not  immediately 
available  for  cultural  purposes. 

We  will  now  return  to  the  visions  of  Miss  Miller. 
Those  now  following  need  no  further  detailed  discussion. 
The  next  vision  is  the  image  of  a  "  purple  bay."  The 
symbolism  of  the  sea  connects  smoothly  with  that  which 
precedes.  One  might  think  here  in  addition  of  the 
reminiscences  of  the  Bay  of  Naples,  which  we  came  across 
in  Part  I.  In  the  sequence  of  the  whole,  however,  we 
must  not  overlook  the   significance   of  the   '*  bay."     In 


SYMBOLISM  OF  MOTHER  AND  OF  REBIRTH     305 

French  It  is  called  une  bate,  which  probably  corre- 
sponds to  a  bay  in  the  English  text.  It  might  be  worth 
while  here  to  glance  at  the  etymological  side  of  this 
Idea.  Bay  is  generally  used  for  something  which  is  open, 
just  as  the  Catalonian  word  badia  (bai)  comes  from 
badar,  "  to  open."  In  French  bayer  means  "  to  have  the 
mouth  open,  to  gape."  Another  word  for  the  same  Is 
Meerbusen,  "  bay  or  gulf  "  ;  Latin  sinus,  and  a  third  word 
is  golf  (gulf),  which  In  French  stands  in  closest  relation 
to  gouffre  =  abyss.  Golf  Is  derived  from  ^'  jioXnoi,''^  "^ 
which  also  means  "  bosom "  and  "  womb,"  "  mother- 
womb,"  also  "  vagina."  It  can  also  mean  a  fold  of  a 
dress  or  pocket;  It  may  also  mean  a  deep  valley  between 
high  mountains.  These  expressions  clearly  show  what 
primitive  ideas  lie  at  their  base.  They  render  intelligible 
Goethe's  choice  of  words  at  that  place  where  Faust  wishes 
to  follow  the  sun  with  winged  desire  In  order  in  the  ever- 
lasting day  "  to  drink  Its  eternal  light  " : 

"  The  mountain  chain  with  all  its  gorges  deep, 
Would  then  no  more  impede  my  godlike  motion; 
And  now  before  mine  eyes  expands  the  ocean, 
With  all  its  bays,  in  shining  sleep !  " 

Faust's  desire,  like  that  of  every  hero,  Inclines  towards 
the  mysteries  ot  rebirth,  of  immortality;  therefore,  his 
course  leads  to  the  sea,  and  down  Into  the  monstrous 
jaws  of  death,  the  horror  and  narrowness  of  which  at 
the  same  time  signify  the  new  day. 

"  Out  on  the  open  ocean  speeds  my  dreaming: 
The  glassy  flood  before  my  feet  is  gleaming, 
A  new  day  beckons  to  a  newer  shore! 


3o6       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

A  fiery  chariot  borne  on  buoyant  pinions, 
Sweeps  near  me  now!     I  soon  shall  ready  be 
To  pierce  the  ether's  high,  unknown  dominions, 
To  reach  new  spheres  of  pure  activity! 
This  Godlike  rapture,  this  supreme  existence.  .    .   . 

"  Yes,  let  me  dare  those  gates  to  fling  asunder, 
Which  every  man  would  fain  go  slinking  by! 
'Tis  time,  through  deeds  this  word  of  truth  to  thunder; 
That  with  the  height  of  God's  Man's  dignity  may  vie! 
Nor  from  that  gloomy  gulf  to  shrink  affrighted. 
Where  fancy  doth  herself  to  self-born  pangs  compel, — 
To  struggle  toward  that  pass  benighted. 
Around  whose  narrow  mouth  flame  all  the  fires  of  Hell: — 
To  take  this  step  with  cheerful  resolution. 
Though  Nothingness  should  be  the  certain  swift  conclusion !  '* 

It  sounds  like  a  confirmation,  when  the  succeeding  vision 
of  Miss  Miller's  is  une  falaise  a  pic,  "  a  steep,  precipi- 
tous cliff."  (Compare  goiiffre.)  The  entire  series  of 
individual  visions  is  completed,  as  the  author  observes, 
by  a  confusion  of  sounds,  somewhat  resembling  "  wa-ma, 
wa-ma."  This  has  a  very  primitive,  barbaric  sound. 
Since  we  learn  from  the  author  nothing  of  the  subjective 
roots  of  this  sound,  nothing  Is  left  us  but  the  suspicion 
that  this  sound  might  be  considered,  taken  in  connection 
with  the  whole,  as  a  slight  mutilation  of  the  well-known 
call  ma-ma. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  FROM 
THE  MOTHER 

There  now  comes  a  pause  In  the  production  of  visions 
by  Miss  Miller;  then  the  activity  of  the  unconscious  Is 
resumed  very  energetically. 

A  forest  with  trees  and  bushes  appears. 

After  the  discussions  in  the  preceding  chapter,  there  Is 
need  only  of  a  hint  that  the  symbol  of  the  forest  coincides 
essentially  with  the  meaning  of  the  holy  tree.  The  holy 
tree  is  found  generally  in  a  sacred  forest  inclosure  or  in 
the  garden  of  Paradise.  The  sacred  grove  often  takes 
the  place  of  the  taboo  tree  and  assumes  all  the  attributes 
of  the  latter.  The  erotic  symbolism  of  the  garden  is 
generally  known.  The  forest,  like  the  tree,  has  mytho- 
logically  a  maternal  significance.  In  the  vision  which  now 
follows,  the  forest  furnishes  the  stage  upon  which  the 
dramatic  representation  of  the  end  of  Chiwantopel  is 
played.  This  act,  therefore,  takes  place  in  or  near  the 
mother. 

First,  I  will  give  the  beginning  of  the  drama  as  it  Is  In 
the  original  text,  up  to  the  first  attempt  at  sacrifice.  At 
the  beginning  of  the  next  chapter  the  reader  will  find  the 
continuation,  the  monologue  and  the  sacrificial  scene. 
The  drama  begins  as  follows : 

307 


3o8       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

"  The  personage  Chiwantopel,  came  from  the  south,  on  horse- 
back; around  him  a  cloak  of  vivid  colors,  red,  blue  and  white.  An 
Indian  in  a  costume  of  doe  skin,  covered  with  beads  and  ornamented 
v/ith  feathers  advances,  squats  down  and  prepares  to  let  fly  an 
arrow  at  Chiwantopel.  The  latter  presents  his  breast  in  an  attitude 
of  defiance,  and  the  Indian,  fascinated  by  that  sight,  slinks  away 
and  disappears  within  the  forest." 

The  hero,  Chiwantopel,  appears  on  horseback.  This 
fact  seems  of  Importance,  because  as  the  further  course 
of  the  drama  shows  (see  Chapter  VIII)  the  horse  plays 
no  indifferent  role,  but  suffers  the  same  death  as  the  hero, 
and  is  even  called  "  faithful  brother "  by  the  latter. 
These  allusions  point  to  a  remarkable  similarity  between 
horse  and  rider.  There  seems  to  exist  an  intimate  con- 
nection between  the  two,  which  guides  them  to  the  same 
destiny.  We  already  have  seen  that  the  symbolization  of 
"  the  libido  in  resistance  "  through  the  "  terrible  mother  " 
in  some  places  runs  parallel  with  the  horse. ^  Strictly 
speaking,  it  would  be  incorrect  to  say  that  the  horse  is,  or 
means,  the  mother.  The  mother  idea  Is  a  libido  symbol, 
and  the  horse  is  also  a  libido  symbol,  and  at  some  points 
the  two  symbols  intersect  in  their  significances.  The  com- 
mon feature  of  the  two  ideas  lies  in  the  libido,  especially 
in  the  libido  repressed  from  incest.  The  hero  and  the 
horse  appear  to  us  in  this  setting  like  an  artistic  formation 
of  the  idea  of  humanity  with  its  repressed  libido,  whereby 
the  horse  acquires  the  significance  of  the  animal  uncon- 
scious, which  appears  domesticated  and  subjected  to  the 
will  of  man.  Agni  upon  the  ram,  Wotan  upon  Sleipneir, 
Ahuramazda  upon  Angromainyu,^  Jahwe  upon  the  mon- 
strous seraph,  Christ  upon  the  ass,^  Dionysus  upon  the 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  309 

ass,  Mithra  upon  the  horse,  Men  upon  the  human-footed 
horse,    Freir   upon   the    golden-bristled   boar,    etc.,    are 
parallel  representations.    The  chargers  of  mythology  are 
always  invested  with  great  significance;  they  very  often 
appear    anthropomorphized.     Thus,    Men's    horse    has 
human  forelegs;  Balaam's  ass,  human  speech;  the  retreat- 
ing bull,  upon  whose  back  Mithra  springs  in  order  to 
strike  him  down,  is,  according  to  a  Persian  legend,  actu- 
ally the  God  himself.    The  mock  crucifix  of  the  Palatine 
represents  the  crucified  with  an  ass's  head,  perhaps  in 
reference  to  the   ancient  legend  that  in  the  temple  of 
Jerusalem   the   image   of   an   ass   was   worshipped.    As 
Drosselbart     (horse's    mane)     Wotan    is     half-human, 
half-horse.*     An  old  German  riddle  very  prettily  shows 
this  unity  between  horse  and  horseman.^     "  Who  are  the 
two,  who  travel  to  Thing?     Together  they  have  three 
eyes,  ten  feet®  and  one  tail;  and  thus  they  travel  over 
the  land."    Legends  ascribe  properties  to  the  horse,  which 
psychologically  belong  to  the  unconscious  of  man;  horses 
are  clairvoyant  and  clairaudient;  they  show  the  way  when 
the  lost  wanderer  is  helpless;  they  have  mantic  powers. 
In  the  Iliad  the  horse  prophesies  evil.     They  hear  the 
words  which  the  corpse  speaks  when  it  is  taken  to  the 
grave — words  which  men  cannot  hear.     Caesar  learned 
from  his  human-footed  horse   (probably  taken  from  the 
identification  of  Csesar  with  the  Phrygian  Men)  that  he 
was  to  conquer  the  world.    An  ass  prophesied  to  Augustus 
the  victory  of  Actium.     The  horse  also  sees  phantoms. 
All  these  things  correspond  to  typical  manifestations  of 
the  unconscious.     Therefore,   it  is  perfectly  intelligible 


3IO       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

that  the  horse,  as  the  image  of  the  wicked  animal  compo- 
nent of  man,  has  manifold  connections  with  the  devil. 
The  devil  has  a  horse's  foot;  in  certain  circumstances  a 
horse's  form.  At  crucial  moments  he  suddenly  shows  a 
cloven  foot  (proverbial)  in  the  same  way  as  in  the  abduc- 
tion of  Hadding,  Sleipneir  suddenly  looked  out  from  be- 
hind Wotan's  mantle/  Just  as  the  nightmare  rides  on 
the  sleeper,  so  does  the  devil,  and,  therefore,  it  is  said 
that  those  who  have  nightmares  are  ridden  by  the  devil. 
In  Persian  lore  the  devil  is  the  steed  of  God.  The  devil, 
like  all  evil  things,  represents  sexuality.  Witches  have 
intercourse  with  him,  in  which  case  he  appears  in  the 
form  of  a  goat  or  horse.  The  unmistakably  phallic 
nature  of  the  devil  is  communicated  to  the  horse  as  well; 
hence  this  symbol  occurs  in  connections  where  this  is  the 
only  meaning  which  would  furnish  an  explanation.  It  is 
to  be  mentioned  that  Loki  generates  in  the  form  of  a 
horse,  just  as  does  the  devil  when  in  horse's  form,  as  an 
old  fire  god.  Thus  the  lightning  was  represented  therio- 
morphically  as  a  horse. ^  An  uneducated  hysteric  told  me 
that  as  a  child  she  had  suffered  from  extreme  fear  of 
thunder,  because  every  time  the  lightning  flashed  she  saw 
immediately  afterwards  a  huge  black  horse  reaching  up- 
wards as  far  as  the  sky.®  It  is  said  in  a  legend  that  the 
devil,  as  the  divinity  of  lightning,  casts  a  horse's  foot 
(lightning)  upon  the  roofs.  In  accordance  with  the 
primitive  meaning  of  thunder  as  fertilizer  of  the  earth, 
the  phallic  meaning  is  given  both  to  lightning  and  the 
horse's  foot.  In  mythology  the  horse's  foot  really  has 
the  phallic  function  as  in  this  dream.     An  uneducated 


I 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  311 

patient  who  originally  had  been  violently  forced  to  coitus 
by  her  husband  very  often  dreams  (after  separation) 
that  a  wild  horse  springs  upon  her  and  kicks  her  in  the 
abdomen  with  his  hind  foot.  Plutarch  has  given  us  the 
following  words  of  a  prayer  from  the  Dionysus  orgies : 

iXdaiv  r/pc€?  AidvvGe  "AXiov  e's  vaov  ayvov  <jvv  JLapitea- 
6iv  iivaov  rw  fSoso)  nodi  dvoov,  a^is  tavpe,  a^is  ravps*^° 

Pegasus  with  his  foot  strikes  out  of  the  earth  the 
spring  Hippocrene.  Upon  a  Corinthian  statue  of  Bel- 
lerophon,  which  was  also  a  fountain,  the  water  flowed  out 
from  the  horse's  hoof.  Balder's  horse  gave  rise  to  a 
spring  through  his  kick.  Thus  the  horse's  foot  is  the 
dispenser  of  fruitful  moisture."  A  legend  of  lower 
Austria,  told  by  Jaehns,  informs  us  that  a  gigantic  man 
on  a  white  horse  is  sometimes  seen  riding  over  the  moun- 
tains. This  means  a  speedy  rain.  In  the  German  legend 
the  goddess  of  birth,  Frau  Holle,  appears  on  horseback. 
Pregnant  women  near  confinement  are  prone  to  give  oats 
to  a  white  horse  from  their  aprons  and  to  pray  him  to 
give  them  a  speedy  delivery.  It  was  originally  the  custom 
for  the  horse  to  rub  against  the  woman's  genitals.  The 
horse  (like  the  ass)  had  in  general  the  significance  of  a 
priapic  animal.^-  Horse's  tracks  are  Idols  dispensing 
blessing  and  fertility.  Horse's  tracks  established  a  claim, 
and  were  of  significance  in  determining  boundaries,  like 
the  priaps  of  Latin  antiquity.  Like  the  phallic  Dactyli, 
a  horse  opened  the  mineral  riches  of  the  Harz  Moun- 

*  Come,  O  Dionysus,  in   thy  temple  of  Elis,  come  with  the  Graces  into 
thy  holy  temple:  come  in  sacred  frenzy  with  the  bull's  foot. 


312       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

tains  with  his  hoof.  The  horseshoe,  an  equivalent  for 
horse's  foot/^  brings  luck  and  has  apotropaic  meaning. 
In  the  Netherlands  an  entire  horse's  foot  is  hung  up  in 
the  stable  to  ward  against  sorcery.  The  analogous  effect 
of  the  phallus  is  well  known;  hence  the  phalli  at  the 
gates.  In  particular  the  horse's  leg  turned  lightning  aside, 
according  to  the  principle  "  similia  similibus." 

Horses  also  symbolize  the  wind,  that  is  to  say,  the 
tertium  comparationis  is  again  the  libido  symbol.  The 
German  legend  recognizes  the  wind  as  the  wild  hunts- 
man in  pursuit  of  the  maiden.  Stormy  regions  frequently 
derive  their  names  from  horses,  as  the  White  Horse 
Mountain  of  the  Luneburger  heath.  The  centaurs  are 
typical  wind  gods,  and  have  been  represented  as  such  by 
Bocklin's  artistic  intuition.^* 

Horses  also  signify  fire  and  light.  The  fiery  horses  of 
Helios  are  an  example.  The  horses  of  Hector  are  called 
Xanthos  (yellow,  bright),  Podargos  (swift-footed), 
Lampos  (shining)  and  Aithon  (burning).  A  very  pro- 
nounced fire  symbolism  was  represented  by  the  mystic 
Quadriga,  mentioned  by  Dio  Chrysostomus.  The  su- 
preme God  always  drives  his  chariot  in  a  circle.  Four 
horses  are  harnessed  to  the  chariot.  The  horse  driven 
on  the  periphery  moves  very  quickly.  He  has  a  shining 
coat,  and  bears  upon  it  the  signs  of  the  planets  and  the 
Zodiac.^^  This  is  a  representation  of  the  rotary  fire  of 
heaven.  The  second  horse  moves  more  slowly,  and  is 
illuminated  only  on  one  side.  The  third  moves  still  more 
slowly,  and  the  fourth  rotates  around  himself.  But  once 
the  outer  horse  set  the  second  horse  on  fire  with  his  fiery 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  313 

breath,  and  the  third  flooded  the  fourth  with  his  stream- 
ing sweat.  Then  the  horses  dissolve  and  pass  over  into 
the  substance  of  the  strongest  and  most  fiery,  which  now 
becomes  the  charioteer.  The  horses  also  represent  the 
four  elements.  The  catastrophe  signifies  the  conflagra- 
tion of  the  world  and  the  deluge,  whereupon  the  division 
of  the  God  into  many  parts  ceases,  and  the  divine  unity 
is  restored.^^  Doubtless  the  Quadriga  may  be  understood 
astronomically  as  a  symbol  of  time.  We  already  saw  in 
the  first  part  that  the  stoic  representation  of  Fate  is  a 
fire  symbol.  It  is,  therefore,  a  logical  continuation  of 
the  thought,  when  time,  closely  related  to  the  conception 
of  destiny,  exhibits  this  same  libido  symbolism.  Brihada- 
ranyaka-Upanishad,  i:  i,  says: 

"  The  morning  glow  verily  is  the  head  of  the  sacrificial  horse, 
the  sun  his  eye,  the  wind  his  breath,  the  all-spreading  fire  his 
mouth,  the  year  is  the  belly  of  the  sacrificial  horse.  The  sky  is 
his  back,  the  atmosphere  the  cavern  of  his  body,  the  earth  the  vault 
of  his  belly.  The  poles  are  his  sides,  in  between  the  poles  his  ribs, 
the  seasons  his  limbs,  the  months  and  fortnights  his  joints.  Days 
and  nights  are  his  feet,  stars  his  bones,  clouds  his  flesh.  The  food 
he  digests  is  the  deserts,  the  rivers  are  his  veins,  the  mountains  his 
liver  and  lungs,  the  herbs  and  trees  his  hair;  the  rising  sun  is  his 
fore  part,  the  setting  sun  his  after  part.  The  ocean  is  his  kinsman, 
the  sea  his  cradle." 

The  horse  undoubtedly  here  stands  for  a  time  symbol, 
and  also  for  the  entire  world.  We  come  across  in  the 
Mithraic  religion,  a  strange  God  of  Time,  Aion, 
called  Kronos  or  Deus  Leontocephalus,  because  his 
stereotyped  representation  is  a  lion-headed  man,  who, 
standing  in  a  rigid  attitude,  Is  encoiled  by  a  snake,  whose 


314       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

head  projects  forward  from  behind  over  the  lion's 
head.  The  figure  holds  in  each  hand  a  key,  on  the  chest 
rests  a  thunderbolt,  upon  his  back  are  the  four  wings  of 
the  wind;  in  addition  to  that,  the  figure  sometimes  bears 
the  Zodiac  on  his  body.  Additional  attributes  are  a  cock 
and  implements.  In  the  Carolingian  psalter  of  Utrecht, 
which  is  based  upon  ancient  models,  the  Sasculum-Aion  is 
represented  as  a  naked  man  with  a  snake  in  his  hand.  As 
is  suggested  by  the  name  of  the  divinity,  he  is  a  symbol 
of  time,  most  interestingly  composed  from  libido 
symbols.  The  lion,  the  zodiac  sign  of  the  greatest  sum- 
mer heat,^^  is  the  symbol  of  the  most  mighty  desire. 
("  My  soul  roars  with  the  voice  of  a  hungry  lion,"  says 
Mechthild  of  Magdeburg.)  In  the  Mithra  mystery  the 
serpent  is  often  antagonistic  to  the  lion,  corresponding  to 
that  very  universal  myth  of  the  battle  of  the  sun  with  the 
dragon. 

In  the  Egyptian  Book  of  the  Dead,  Tum  is  even  desig- 
nated as  a  he-cat,  because  as  such  he  fought  the  snake, 
Apophis.  The  encoiling  also  means  the  engulfing,  the 
entering  into  the  mother's  womb.  Thus  time  is  defined 
by  the  rising  and  setting  of  the  sun,  that  is  to  say,  through 
the  death  and  renewal  of  the  libido.  The  addition  of  the 
cock  again  suggests  time,  and  the  addition  of  implements 
suggests  the  creation  through  time.  ("  Duree  creatrice," 
Bergson.)  Oromazdes  and  Ahriman  were  produced 
through  Zrwanakarana,  the  "  infinitely  long  duration." 
Time,  this  empty  and  purely  formal  concept,  is  expressed 
in  the  mysteries  by  transformations  of  the  creative  power, 
the  libido.    Macrobius  says : 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  315 

"  Leonis  capite  monstratur  praesens  tempus — quia  conditio 
ejus  valida  fervensque  est."  * 

Philo  of  Alexandria  has  a  better  understanding: 

"  Tempus  ab  hominibus  pessimis  putatur  deus  volentibus  Ens  es- 
sentiale  abscondere — pravis  hominibus  tempus  putatur  causa  rerum 
mundi,  sapientibus  vero  et  optimis  non  tempus  sed  Deus."  f  ^^ 

In  Firdusi  ^^  time  is  often  the  symbol  of  fate,  the 
libido  nature  of  which  we  have  already  learned  to  recog- 
nize. The  Hindoo  text  mentioned  above  includes  still 
more — its  symbol  of  the  horse  contains  the  whole  world; 
his  kinsman  and  his  cradle  is  the  sea,  the  mother,  similar 
to  the  world  soul,  the  maternal  significance  of  which  we 
have  seen  above.  Just  as  Aion  represents  the  libido  in 
an  embrace,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  state  of  death  and  of 
rebirth,  so  here  the  cradle  of  the  horse  is  the  sea,  i.  e. 
the  libido  is  in  the  mother,  dying  and  rising  again,  like 
the  symbol  of  the  dying  and  resurrected  Christ,  who 
hangs  like  ripe  fruit  upon  the  tree  of  life. 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  horse  is  connected 
through  Ygdrasil  with  the  symbolism  of  the  tree.  The 
horse  is  also  a  "  tree  of  death  ";  thus  in  the  Middle  Ages 
the  funeral  pyre  was  called  St.  Michael's  horse,  and  the 
neo-Persian  word  for  coffin  means  "  wooden  horse."  ^° 
The  horse  has  also  the  role  of  psycho-pompos;  he  is  the 
steed  to  conduct  the   souls  to  the  other  world — horse- 

*  The  present  time  is  indicated  by  the  head  of  the  lion — because  his 
condition  is  strong  and  impetuous. 

t  Time  is  thought  by  the  wickedest  people  to  be  a  divinity  who  de- 
prives willing  people  of  essential  being;  by  good  men  it  is  considered  to 
be  the  Cause  of  the  things  of  the  world,  but  to  the  wisest  and  best  it  does 
not  seem  time,  but  God. 


3i6       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

women  fetch  the  souls  (Valkyries).  Neo-Greek  songb 
represent  Charon  on  a  horse.  These  definitions  obviously 
lead  to  the  mother  symbolism.  The  Trojan  horse  was 
the  only  means  by  which  the  city  could  be  conquered;  be- 
cause only  he  who  has  entered  the  mother  and  been  reborn 
is  an  invincible  hero.  The  Trojan  horse  is  a  magic 
charm,  like  the  "  Nodfyr,"  which  also  serves  to  overcome 
necessity.  The  formula  evidently  reads,  "  In  order  to 
overcome  the  difficulty,  thou  must  commit  incest,  and 
once  more  be  born  from  thy  mother."  It  appears  that 
striking  a  nail  into  the  sacred  tree  signifies  something  very 
similar.  The  "  Stock  im  Eisen  "  in  Vienna  seems  to  have 
been  such  a  palladium. 

Still  another  symbolic  form  is  to  be  considered.  Occa- 
sionally the  devil  rides  upon  a  three-legged  horse.  The 
Goddess  of  Death,  Hel,  in  time  of  pestilence,  also  rides 
upon  a  three-legged  horse. ^^  The  gigantic  ass,  which  is 
three-legged,  stands  in  the  heavenly  rain  lake  Vouru- 
kasha ;  his  urine  purifies  the  water  of  the  lake,  and  from 
his  roar  all  useful  animals  become  pregnant  and  all  harm- 
ful animals  miscarry.  The  Triad  further  points  to  the 
phallic  significance.  The  contrasting  symbolism  of  Hel  is 
blended  into  one  conception  in  the  ass  of  Vourukasha. 
The  libido  is  fructifying  as  well  as  destroying. 

These  definitions,  as  a  whole,  plainly  reveal  the  funda- 
mental features.  The  horse  is  a  libido  symbol,  partly  of 
phallic,  partly  of  maternal  significance,  like  the  tree.  It 
represents  the  libido  in  this  application,  that  is,  the  libido 
repressed  through  the  incest  prohibition. 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  317 

In  the  Miller  drama  an  Indian  approaches  the  hero, 
ready  to  shoot  an  arrow  at  him.  Chiwantopel,  however, 
with  a  proud  gesture,  exposes  his  breast  to  the  enemy. 
This  idea  reminds  the  author  of  the  scene  between  Cassius 
and  Brutus  in  Shakespeare's  "  Julius  Ceesar."  A  misun- 
derstanding has  arisen  between  the  two  friends,  when 
Brutus  reproaches  Cassius  for  withholding  from  him  the 
money  for  the  legions.  Cassius,  irritable  and  angry, 
breaks  out  into  the  complaint: 

"  Come,  Antony,  and  young  Octavius,  come, 
Revenge  yourselves  alone  on  Cassius, 
For  Cassius  is  a-vveary  of  the  world : 
Hated  by  one  he  loves:  braved  by  his  brother: 
Check'd  like  a  bondman ;  all  his  faults  observed: 
Set  in  a  note-book,  learn'd  and  conn'd  by  rote, 
To  cast  into  my  teeth.    O  I  could  weep 
My  spirit  from  mine  eyes! — There  is  my  dagger, 
And  here  my  naked  breast;  within,  a  heart 
Dearer  than  Plutus'  mine,  richer  than  gold: 
If  that  thou  beest  a  Roman,  take  it  forth: 
I,  that  denied  thee  gold,  will  give  my  heart. 
Strike,  as  thou  didst  at  Csesar;  for  I  know 
When  thou  didst  hate  him  worst,  thou  lov'dst  him  better 
Than  ever  thou  lov'dst  Cassius." 

The  material  here  would  be  incomplete  without  men- 
tioning the  fact  that  this  speech  of  Cassius  shows  many 
analogies  to  the  agonized  delirium  of  Cyrano  (compare 
Part  I),  only  Cassius  is  far  more  theatrical  and  over- 
drawn. Something  childish  and  hysterical  is  In  his  man- 
ner. Brutus  does  not  think  of  killing  him,  but  adminis- 
ters a  very  chilling  rebuke  in  the  following  dialogue : 


3i8       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Brutus:    Sheathe  your  dagger: 

Be  angry  when  you  will,  it  shall  have  scope : 
Do  what  you  will,  dishonor  shall  be  humor. 
O  Cassius,  you  are  yoked  with  a  lamb 
That  carries  anger  as  the  flint  bears  fire: 
Who,  much  enforced,  shows  a  hasty  spark. 
And  straight  is  cold  again. 

Cassius:  Hath  Cassius  liv'd 

To  be  but  mirth  and  laughter  to  his  Brutus 
When  grief  and  blood  ill-tempered  vexeth  him? 

Brutus:    When  I  spoke  that,  I  was  ill-tempered  too. 

Cassius:    Do  you  confess  so  much?    Give  me  your  hand. 

Brutus:    And  my  heart  too. 

Cassius:  O  Brutus! 

Brutus:  What's  the  matter? 

Cassius:    Have  not  you  love  enough  to  bear  with  me 

When  that  rash  humor  which  my  mother  gave  me 
Makes  me  forgetful? 

Brutus;  Yes,  Cassius,  and  from  henceforth 

When  you  are  over  earnest  with  your  Brutus, 
He'll  think  your  mother  chides  and  leave  you  so. 


The  analytic  interpretation  of  Cassius's  irritability 
plainly  reveals  that  at  these  moments  he  identifies  himself 
with  the  mother,  and  his  conduct,  therefore,  Is  truly  femi- 
nine, as  his  speech  demonstrates  most  excellently.  For  his 
womanish  love-seeking  and  desperate  subjection  under 
the  proud  masculine  will  of  Brutus  calls  forth  the  friendly 
remark  of  the  latter,  that  Cassius  is  yoked  with  a  lamb, 
that  is  to  say,  has  something  very  weak  in  his  character. 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  319 

which  Is  derived  from  the  mother.  One  recognizes  In 
this  without  any  difficulty  the  analytic  hall-marks  of  an 
infantile  disposition,  which,  as  always.  Is  characterized 
by  a  prevalence  of  the  parent-imago,  here  the  mother- 
imago.  An  infantile  individual  is  infantile  because  he  has 
freed  himself  insufficiently,  or  not  at  all,  from  the  child- 
ish environment,  that  is,  from  his  adaptation  to  his 
parents.  Therefore,  on  one  side,  he  reacts  falsely  towards 
the  world,  as  a  child  towards  his  parents,  always  demand- 
ing love  and  immediate  reward  for  his  feelings;  on  the 
other  side,  on  account  of  the  close  connection  to  the  par- 
ents, he  Identifies  himself  with  them.  The  infantile  indi- 
vidual behaves  like  the  father  and  mother.  He  is  not  In 
a  condition  to  live  for  himself  and  to  find  the  place  to 
which  he  belongs.  Therefore,  Brutus  very  justly  takes 
it  for  granted  that  the  "  mother  chides  "  In  Cassius,  not 
he  himself.  The  psychologically  valuable  fact  which  we 
gather  here  is  the  information  that  Cassius  is  infantile 
and  identified  with  the  mother.  The  hysterical  behavior 
is  due  to  the  circumstance  that  Cassius  is  still,  in  part,  a 
lamb,  and  an  innocent  and  entirely  harmless  child.  He 
remains,  as  far  as  his  emotional  life  is  concerned,  still  far 
behind  himself.  This  we  often  see  among  people  who, 
as  masters,  apparently  govern  life  and  fellow-creatures; 
they  have  remained  children  In  regard  to  the  demands  of 
their  love  nature. 

The  figures  of  the  Miller  dramas,  being  children  of  the 
creator's  phantasy,  depict,  as  is  natural,  those  traits  of 
character  which  belong  to  the  author.  The  hero,  the  wish 
figure.  Is  represented  as  most  distinguished,  because  the 


320       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

hero  always  combines  in  himself  all  wished-for  ideals. 
Cyrano's  attitude  is  certainly  beautiful  and  impressive; 
Cassius's  behavior  has  a  theatrical  effect.  Both  heroes 
prepare  to  die  effectively,  in  which  attempt  Cyrano  suc- 
ceeds. This  attitude  betrays  a  wish  for  death  in  the  un- 
conscious of  our  author,  the  meaning  of  which  we  have 
already  discussed  at  length  as  the  motive  for  her  poem 
of  the  moth.  The  wish  of  young  girls  to  die  is  only  an 
indirect  expression,  which  remains  a  pose,  even  in  case 
of  real  death,  for  death  itself  can  be  a  pose.  Such  an 
outcome  merely  adds  beauty  and  value  to  the  pose  under 
certain  conditions.  That  the  highest  summit  of  life  is 
expressed  through  the  symbolism  of  death  is  a  well-known 
fact;  for  creation  beyond  one's  self  means  personal  death. 
The  coming  generation  is  the  end  of  the  preceding  one. 
This  symbolism  is  frequent  in  erotic  speech.  The  lascivi- 
ous speech  between  Lucius  and  the  wanton  servant-maid 
in  Apuleius  ("  Metamorphoses,"  lib.  ii:  32)  is  one  of  the 
clearest  examples: 

"  Proeliare,  inquit,  et  fortiter  proeliare :  nee  enim  tibi  cedam, 
nee  terga  vortam.  Cominus  in  aspectum,  si  vir  es,  dirige;  et 
grassare  naviter,  et  occide  moriturus.  Hodierna  pugna  non  habet 
missionem. — Simul  ambo  corruimus  inter  mutuos  amplexus  animas 
anhelantes."  * 

This  symbolism  is  extremely  significant,  because  it 
shows  how  easily  a  contrasting  expression  originates  and 

*  "Fight,"  she  said,  "  and  fight  bravely,  for  I  will  not  give  away  an 
inch  nor  turn  my  back.  Face  to  face,  come  on  if  you  are  a  man !  Strike 
home,  do  your  worst  and  die!  The  battle  this  day  is  without  quarter  .  .  . 
till,  weary  in  body  and  mind,  we  lie  powerless  and  gasping  for  breath 
in  each  other's  arms." 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  32 r 

how  equally  intelligible  and  characteristic  such  an  expres- 
sion is.  The  proud  gesture  with  which  the  hero  offers 
himself  to  death  may  very  easily  be  an  indirect  expression 
which  challenges  the  pity  or  sympathy  of  the  other,  and 
thus  is  doomed  to  the  calm  analytic  reduction  to  which 
Brutus  proceeds.  The  behavior  of  Chiwantopel  is  also 
suspicious,  because  the  Cassius  scene  which  serves  as  its 
model  betrays  indiscreetly  that  the  whole  affair  is  merely 
infantile  and  one  which  owes  its  origin  to  an  overactive 
mother  imago.  When  we  compare  this  piece  with  the 
series  of  mother  symbols  brought  to  light  in  the  previous 
chapter,  we  must  say  that  the  Cassius  scene  merely  con- 
firms once  more  what  we  have  long  supposed,  that  is  to 
say,  that  the  motor  power  of  these  symbolic  visions  arises 
from  an  infantile  mother  transference,  that  is  to  say, 
from  an  undetached  bond  to  the  mother. 

In  the  drama  the  libido,  in  contradistinction  to  the  in- 
active nature  of  the  previous  symbols,  assumes  a  threaten- 
ing activity,  a  conflict  becoming  evident,  in  which  the  one 
part  threatens  the  other  with  murder.  The  hero,  as  the 
ideal  image  of  the  dreamer,  is  inclined  to  die;  he  does  not 
fear  death.  In  accordance  with  the  infantile  character  of 
this  hero,  it  would  most  surely  be  time  for  him  to  take  his 
departure  from  the  stage,  or,  in  childish  language,  to  die. 
Death  is  to  come  to  him  in  the  form  of  an  arrow-wound. 
Considering  the  fact  that  heroes  themselves  are  very 
often  great  archers  or  succumb  to  an  arrow-wound  (St. 
Sebastian,  as  an  example),  it  may  not  be  superfluous  to 
inquire  into  the  meaning  of  death  through  an  arrow. 

We  read  in  the  biography  of  the  stigmatized  nun  Kath- 


322       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

erine  Emmerich "  the  following  description  of  the  evi- 
dently neurotic  sickness  of  her  heart: 

"  When  only  in  her  novitiate,  she  received  as  a  Christmas 
present  from  the  holy  Christ  a  very  tormenting  heart  trouble  for 
the  whole  period  of  her  nun's  life.  God  showed  her  inwardly 
the  purpose;  it  was  on  account  of  the  decline  of  the  spirit  of  the 
order,  especially  for  the  sins  of  her  fellow-sisters.  But  what 
rendered  this  trouble  most  painful  was  the  gift  which  she  had 
possessed  from  youth,  namely,  to  see  before  her  eyes  the  inner 
nature  of  man  as  he  really  was.  She  felt  the  heart  trouble 
physically  as  if  her  heart  was  continually  pierced  by  arrows." 
These  arrows — and  this  represented  the  still  worse  mental  suf- 
fering— she  recognized  as  the  thoughts,  plots,  secret  speeches, 
misunderstandings,  scandal  and  uncharitableness,  in  which  her 
fellow-sisters,  wholly  without  reason  and  unscrupulously,  were 
engaged  against  her  and  her  god-fearing  way  of  life." 

It  is  difficult  to  be  a  saint,  because  even  a  patient  and 
long-suffering  nature  will  not  readily  bear  such  a  viola- 
tion, and  defends  itself  in  its  own  way.  The  companion 
of  sanctity  is  temptation,  without  which  no  true  saint  can 
live.  We  know  from  analytic  experience  that  these 
temptations  can  pass  unconsciously,  so  that  only  their 
equivalents  would  be  produced  in  consciousness  in  the 
form  of  symptoms.  We  know  that  it  is  proverbial  that 
heart  and  smart  (Herz  and  Schmerz)  rhyme.  It  is  a 
well-known  fact  that  hysterics  put  a  physical  pain  in  place 
of  a  mental  pain.  The  biographer  of  Emmerich  has  com- 
prehended that  very  correctly.  Only  her  interpretation  of 
the  pain  is,  as  usual,  projected.  It  is  always  the  others 
who  secretly  assert  all  sorts  of  evil  things  about  her,  and 
this  she  pretended  gave  her  the  pains.-*    The  case,  how- 


I 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  323 

ever,  bears  a  somewhat  different  aspect.  The  very  diffi- 
cult renunciation  of  all  life's  joys,  this  death  before  the 
bloom,  is  generally  painful,  and  especially  painful  are  the 
unfulfilled  wishes  and  the  attempts  of  the  animal  nature  to 
break  through  the  power  of  repression.  The  gossip  and 
jokes  of  the  sisters  very  naturally  centre  around  these 
most  painful  things,  so  that  it  must  appear  to  the  saint 
as  if  her  symptoms  were  caused  by  this.  Naturally,  again, 
she  could  not  know  that  gossip  tends  to  assume  the  role 
of  the  unconscious,  which,  like  a  clever  adversary,  always 
aims  at  the  actual  gaps  in  our  armor. 

A  passage  from  Gautama  Buddha  embodies  this  idea :  ^^ 

"  A  wish  earnestly  desired 
Produced  by  will,  and  nourished 
When  gradually  it  must  be  thwarted, 
Burrows  like  an  arrow  in  the  flesh." 

The  wounding  and  painful  arrows  do  not  come  from 
without  through  gossip,  which  only  attacks  externally, 
but  they  come  from  ambush,  from  our  own  unconscious. 
This,  rather  than  anything  external,  creates  th;'  defense- 
less suffering.  It  is  our  own  repressed  and  unrecognized 
desires  which  fester  like  arrows  in  our  flesh.'^^  In  another 
connection  this  was  clear  to  the  nun,  and  that  most  liter- 
ally. It  is  a  well-known  fact,  and  one  which  needs  no 
further  proof  to  those  who  understand,  that  these  mystic 
scenes  of  union  with  the  Saviour  generally  are  intermin- 
gled with  an  enormous  amount  of  sexual  libido."  There- 
fore, It  is  not  astonishing  that  the  scene  of  the  stigmata 
is  nothing  but  an  incubation  through  the  Saviour,  only 


324       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

slightly  changed  metaphorically,  as  compared  with  the 
ancient  conception  of  "  unio  mystica,"  as  cohabitation 
with  the  god.  Emmerich  relates  the  following  of  her 
stigmatization : 

"  I  had  a  contemplation  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  and  im- 
plored him  to  let  me  feel  with  him  his  sorrows,  and  prayed  five 
paternosters  to  the  honor  of  the  five  sacred  wounds.  Lying  on 
my  bed  with  outstretched  arms,  I  entered  into  a  great  sweetness 
and  into  an  endless  thirst  for  the  torments  of  Jesus.  Then  I  saw 
a  light  descending  upon  me:  it  came  obliquely  from  above.  It 
was  a  crucified  body,  living  and  transparent,  with  arms  extended, 
but  without  a  cross.  The  wounds  shone  brighter  than  the  body; 
they  were  five  circles  of  glory,  coming  forth  from  the  whole  glory. 
I  was  enraptured  and  my  heart  was  moved  with  great  pain  and 
yet  with  sweetness  from  longing  to  share  in  the  torments  of  my 
Saviour.  And  my  longings  for  the  sorrows  of  the  Redeemer 
increased  more  and  more  on  gazing  on  his  wounds,  and  passed 
from  my  breast,  through  my  hands,  sides  and  feet  to  his  holy 
wounds:  then  from  the  hands,  then  from  the  sides,  then  from 
the  feet  of  the  figure  threefold  shining  red  beams  ending  below 
in  an  arrow,  shot  forth  to  my  hands,  sides  and  feet." 

The  beams,  in  accordance  with  the  phallic  fundamental 
thought,  are  threefold,  terminating  below  in  an  arrow- 
point.^^  Like  Cupid,  the  sun,  too,  has  its  quiver,  full  of 
destroying  or  fertilizing  arrows,  sun  rays,^''  which  possess 
phallic  meaning.  On  this  significance  evidently  rests  the 
Oriental  custom  of  designating  brave  sons  as  arrows  and 
javelins  of  the  parents.  "  To  make  sharp  arrows  "  is  an 
Arabian  expression  for  "  to  generate  brave  sons."  The 
Psalms  declare  (cxxvii:4)  : 

"  Like  as  the  arrows  in  the  hands  of  the  giant;  even  so  are  the 
young  children." 


I 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  325 

(Compare  with  this  the  remarks  previously  made 
about  "  boys.")  Because  of  this  significance  of  the  arrow 
it  is  intelligible  why  the  Scythian  king  Ariantes,  when  he 
wished  to  prepare  a  census,  demanded  an  arrow-head 
from  each  man.  A  similar  meaning  attaches  equally  to 
the  lance.  Men  are  descended  from  the  lance,  because 
the  ash  is  the  mother  of  lances.  Therefore,  the  men  of 
the  Iron  Age  are  derived  from  her.  The  marriage  cus- 
tom to  which  Ovid  alludes  ("  Comat  virgineas  hasta 
recurva  comas" — Fastorum,  lib.  ii:56o)  has  already 
been  mentioned.  Kaineus  issued  a  command  that  his 
lance  be  honored.  Pindar  relates  in  the  legend  of  this 
Kaineus : 

"  He  descended  into  the  depths,  splitting  the  earth  with  a 
straight  foot." '" 

He  is  said  to  have  originally  been  a  maiden  named 
Kainis,  who,  because  of  her  complaisance,  was  trans- 
formed into  an  invulnerable  man  by  Poseidon.  Ovid 
pictures  the  battle  of  the  Lapithse  with  the  invulnerable 
Kaineus;  how  at  last  they  covered  him  completely  with 
trees,  because  they  could  not  otherwise  touch  him.  Ovid 
says  at  this  place : 

"  Exitus  in  dubio  est:  alii  sub  Inania  corpus 
Tartara  detrusum  silvarum  mole  ferebant, 
Abnuit  Ampycides:  medioque  ex  aggere  fulvis 
Vidit  avem  pennis  liquidas  exire  sub  auras."  * 

♦The  result  is  doubtful:  the  body  borne  down  by  the  weight  of  the 
forest  is  carried  into  empty  Tartaros:  Ampycides  denies  this:  from  out 
of  the  midst  of  the  mass,  he  sees  a  bird  with  tawny  feathers  issue  into 
the  liquid  air. 


326       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Roscher  considers  this  bird  to  be  the  golden  plover 
(Charadrius  pluvialis),  which  borrows  its  name  from  the 
fact  that  it  lives  in  the  x^P^^P^y  ^  crevice  in  the  earth. 
By  his  song  he  proclaims  the  approaching  rain.  Kaineus 
was  changed  into  this  bird. 

We  see  again  in  this  little  myth  the  typical  constituents 
of  the  libido  myth:  original  bisexuality,  immortality  (in- 
vulnerability) through  entrance  into  the  mother  (split- 
ting the  mother  with  the  foot,  and  to  become  covered  up) 
and  resurrection  as  a  bird  of  the  soul  and  a  bringer  of 
fertility  (ascending  sun).  When  this  type  of  hero  causes 
his  lance  to  be  worshipped,  it  probably  means  that  his 
lance  is  a  valid  and  equivalent  expression  of  him- 
self. 

From  our  present  standpoint,  we  understand  in  a  new 
sense  that  passage  in  Job,  which  I  mentioned  in  Chap- 
ter IV  of  the  first  part  of  this  book: 

"  He  has  set  me  up  for  his  mark. 

"  His  archers  compass  me  round  about,  he  cleaveth  my  reins 
asunder,  and  doth  not  spare: — he  poureth  out  my  gall  upon  the 
ground. 

"  He  breaketh  me  with  breach  upon  breach:  he  runneth  upon 
me  like  a  giant." — Job  xvi:  12-13-14. 

Now  we  understand  this  symbolism  as  an  expression 
for  the  soul  torment  caused  by  the  onslaught  of  the  un- 
conscious desires.  The  libido  festers  in  his  flesh,  a  cruel 
god  has  taken  possession  of  him  and  pierced  him  with 
his  painful  libidian  projectiles,  with  thoughts,  which  over- 
whelmingly pass  through  him.  (As  a  dementia  prsecox 
patient  once  said  to  me  during  his  recovery:  "To-day  n 


I 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  327 

thought  suddenly  thrust  itself  through  me.")     This  same 
idea  is  found  again  in  Nietzsche  in  Zarathustra : 

The  Magician 

Stretched  out,  shivering 

Like  one  half  dead  whose  feet  are  warmed, 

Shaken  alas!  by  unknown  fevers. 

Trembling  from  the  icy  pointed  arrows  of  frost. 

Hunted  by  Thee,  O  Thought! 

Unutterable !     Veiled !     Horrible  One ! 

Thou  huntsman  behind  the  clouds! 

Struck  to  the  ground  by  thee. 

Thou  mocking  eye  that  gazeth  at  me  from  the  dark! 

Thus  do  I  lie 

Bending,  writhing,  tortured 

With  all  eternal  tortures. 

Smitten 

By  thee,  crudest  huntsman, 

Thou  unfamiliar  God. 

Smite  deeper! 

Smite  once  more: 

Pierce  through  and  rend  my  heart! 

What  meaneth  this  torturing 

With  blunt-toothed  arrows? 

Why  gazeth  thou  again. 

Never  weary  of  human  pain, 

With  malicious,  God-lightning  eyes, 

Thou  wilt  not  kill, 

But  torture,  torture? 

No  long-drawn-out  explanation  is  necessary  to  enable 
us  to  recognize  in  this  comparison  the  old,  universal  idea 
of  the  martyred  sacrifice  of  God,  which  we  have  met  pre- 
viously in  the  Mexican  sacrifice  of  the  cross  and  in  the 
sacrifice  of  Odin.^^     This  same  conception  faces  us  in 


328       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

the  oft-repeated  martyrdom  of  St.  Sebastian,  where,  in 
the  delicate-glowing  flesh  of  the  young  god,  all  the  pain 
of  renunciation  which  has  been  felt  by  the  artist  has  been 
portrayed.  An  artist  always  embodies  in  his  artistic  work 
a  portion  of  the  mysteries  of  his  time.  In  a  heightened 
degree  the  same  is  true  of  the  principal  Christian  symbol, 
the  crucified  one  pierced  by  the  lance,  the  conception  of 
the  man  of  the  Christian  era  tormented  by  his  wishes, 
crucified  and  dying  in  Christ. 

This  is  not  torment  which  comes  from  without,  which 
befalls  mankind;  but  that  he  himself  is  the  hunter,  mur- 
derer, sacrificer  and  sacrificial  knife  is  shown  us  in  another 
of  Nietzsche's  poems,  wherein  the  apparent  dualism  is 
transformed  into  the  soul  conflict  through  the  use  of  the 
same  symbolism: 

"  Oh,  Zarathustra, 
Most  cruel  Nimrod ! 
Whilom  hunter  of  God 
The  snare  of  all  virtue, 
An  arrow  of  evil ! 
Now 

Hunted  by  thyself 
Thine  own  prey 
Pierced  through  thyself, 
Now 

Alone  with  thee 

Twofold  in  thine  own  knowledge 
Mid  a  hundred  mirrors 
False  to  thyself, 
Mid  a  hundred  memories 
Uncertain 

Ailing  M'ith  each  wound 
Shivering  with  each  frost 


I 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  329 

Caught  in  thine  own  snares, 
Self  knower! 
Self  hangman! 

"  Why  didst  thou  strangle  thyself 
With  the  noose  of  thy  wisdom? 
Why  hast  thou  enticed  thyself 
Into  the  Paradise  of  the  old  serpent? 
Why  hast  thou  crept 
Into  thyself,  thyself?  ..." 

The  deadly  arrows  do  not  strike  the  hero  from  with- 
out, but  it  is  he  himself  who,  in  disharmony  with  himself, 
hunts,  fights  and  tortures  himself.  Within  himself  will 
has  turned  against  will,  libido  against  libido — therefore, 
the  poet  says,  "  Pierced  through  thyself,"  that  is  to  say, 
wounded  by  his  own  arrow.  Because  we  have  discerned 
that  the  arrow  is  a  libido  symbol,  the  idea  of  "  penetrat- 
ing or  piercing  through  "  consequently  becomes  clear  to 
us.  It  is  a  phallic  act  of  union  with  one's  self,  a  sort  of 
self-fertilization  (introversion)  ;  also  a  self-violation,  a 
self-murder;  therefore,  Zarathustra  may  call  himself  his 
own  hangman,  like  Odin,  who  sacrifices  himself  to  Odin. 

The  wounding  by  one's  own  arrow  means,  first  of  all, 
the  state  of  introversion.  What  this  signifies  we  already 
know — the  libido  sinks  into  its  "own  depths"  (a  well- 
known  comparison  of  Nietzsche's)  and  finds  there  below, 
in  the  shadows  of  the  unconscious,  the  substitute  for  the 
upper  world,  which  it  has  abandoned :  the  world  of  mem- 
ories ("  'mid  a  hundred  memories  "),  the  strongest  and 
most  influential  of  which  are  the  early  infantile  memory 
pictures.     It  is  the  world  of  the  child,  this  paradise  like 


330       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

state  of  earliest  childhood,  from  which  we  are  separated 
by  a  hard  law.  In  this  subterranean  kingdom  slumber 
sweet  feelings  of  home  and  the  endless  hopes  of  all  that 
is  to  be.  As  Heinrich  in  the  "  Sunken  Bell,"  by  Gerhart 
Hauptmann,  says,  in  speaking  of  his  miraculous  work: 

"  There  is  a  song  lost  and  forgotten, 
A  song  of  home,  a  love  song  of  childhood, 
Brought  up  from  the  depths  of  the  fairy  well, 
Known  to  all,  but  yet  unheard." 

However,  as  Mephistopheles  says,  "  The  danger  Is 
great."  These  depths  are  enticing;  they  are  the  mother 
and — death.  When  the  libido  leaves  the  bright  upper 
world,  whether  from  the  decision  of  the  individual  or 
from  decreasing  life  force,  then  it  sinks  back  into  its  own 
depths,  into  the  source  from  which  it  has  gushed  forth, 
and  turns  back  to  that  point  of  cleavage,  the  umbilicus, 
through  which  It  once  entered  Into  this  body.  This  point 
of  cleavage  Is  called  the  mother,  because  from  her  comes 
the  source  of  the  libido.  Therefore,  when  some  great 
work  is  to  be  accomplished,  before  which  weak  man  re- 
coils, doubtful  of  his  strength,  his  libido  returns  to  that 
source — and  this  Is  the  dangerous  moment,  in  which  the 
decision  takes  place  between  annihilation  and  new  life. 
If  the  libido  remains  arrested  In  the  wonder  kingdom  of 
the  inner  world, ^^  then  the  man  has  become  for  the  world 
above  a  phantom,  then  he  Is  practically  dead  or  des- 
perately 111.^^  But  if  the  libido  succeeds  In  tearing  Itself 
loose  and  pushing  up  into  the  world  above,  then  a  miracle 
appears.     This  journey  to  the  underworld  has  been  a 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  331 

fountain  of  youth,  and  new  fertility  springs  from  his  ap- 
parent death.  This  train  of  thought  is  very  beautifully 
gathered  into  a  Hindoo  myth :  Once  upon  a  time,  Vishnu 
sank  into  an  ecstasy  (introversion)  and  during  this  state 
of  sleep  bore  Brahma,  who,  enthroned  upon  the  lotus 
flower,  arose  from  the  navel  of  Vishnu,  bringing  with 
him  the  Vedas,  which  he  diligently  read.  (Birth  of  crea- 
tive thought  from  introversion.)  But  through  Vishnu's 
ecstasy  a  devouring  flood  came  upon  the  world.  (Devour- 
ing through  introversion,  symbolizing  the  danger  of  enter- 
ing into  the  mother  of  death.)  A  demon  taking  advan- 
tage of  the  danger,  stole  the  Vedas  from  Brahma  and 
hid  them  in  the  depths.  (Devouring  of  the  libido.) 
Brahma  roused  Vishnu,  and  the  latter,  transforming 
himself  into  a  fish,  plunged  into  the  flood,  fought  with 
the  demon  (battle  with  the  dragon),  conquered  him  and 
recaptured  the  Vedas.  (Treasure  obtained  with  diffi- 
culty.) 

Self-concentration  and  the  strength  derived  therefrom 
correspond  to  this  primitive  train  of  thought.  It  also 
explains  numerous  sacrificial  and  magic  rites  which  we 
have  already  fully  discussed.  Thus  the  impregnable  Troy 
falls  because  the  besiegers  creep  into  the  belly  of  a  wooden 
horse;  for  he  alone  is  a  hero  who  is  reborn  from  the 
mother,  like  the  sun.  But  the  danger  of  this  venture  is 
shown  by  the  history  of  Philoctetes,  who  was  the  only 
one  in  the  Trojan  expedition  who  knew  the  hidden  sanc- 
tuary of  Chryse,  v/here  the  Argonauts  had  sacrificed  al- 
ready, and  where  the  Greeks  planned  to  sacrifice  in  order 
to  assure   a   safe  ending  to   their  undertaking.     Chryse 


332       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

was  a  nymph  upon  the  island  of  Chryse;  according 
to  the  account  of  the  scholiasts  in  Sophocles's  "  Philoc- 
tetes,"  this  nymph  loved  Philoctetes,  and  cursed  him  be- 
cause he  spurned  her  love.  This  characteristic  projection, 
which  is  also  met  with  in  the  Gilgamesh  epic,  should  be 
referred  back,  as  suggested,  to  the  repressed  incest  wish 
of  the  son,  who  is  represented  through  the  projection  as  if 
the  mother  had  the  evil  wish,  for  the  refusal  of  which  the 
son  was  given  over  to  death.  In  reality,  however,  the  son 
becomes  mortal  by  separating  himself  from  the  mother. 
His  fear  of  death,  therefore,  corresponds  to  the  repressed 
wish  to  turn  back  to  the  mother,  and  causes  him  to  be- 
lieve that  the  mother  threatens  or  pursues  him.  The 
teleological  significance  of  this  fear  of  persecution  is  evi- 
dent; it  is  to  keep  son  and  mother  apart. 

The  curse  of  Chryse  is  realized  In  so  far  that  Philoc- 
tetes, according  to  one  version,  when  approaching  his 
altar,  injured  himself  In  his  foot  with  one  of  his  own 
deadly  poisonous  arrows,  or,  according  to  another  ver- 
sion ^*  (this  Is  better  and  far  more  abundantly  proven), 
was  bitten  in  his  foot  by  a  poisonous  serpent.^^  From 
then  on  he  Is  alling.^^ 

This  very  typical  wound,  which  also  destroyed  Re,  is 
described  in  the  following  manner  In  an  Egyptian  hymn: 

"  The  ancient  of  the  Gods  moved  his  mouth, 
He  cast  his  saliva  upon  the  earth, 
And  what  he  spat,  fell  upon  the  ground. 
With  her  hands  Isis  kneaded  that  and  the  soil 
Which  was  about  it,  together: 
From  that  she  created  a  venerable  worm, 
And  made  him  like  a  spear. 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  333 

She  did  not  twist  him  living  around  her  face, 
But  threw  him  coiled  upon  the  path, 
Upon  which  the  great  God  wandered  at  ease 
Through  all  his  lands. 

"  The  venerable  God  stepped  forth  radiantly. 
The  gods  who  served  Pharaoh  accompanied  him, 
And  he  proceeded  as  every  day. 
Then  the  venerable  worm  stung  him.   .    .    . 
The  divine  God  opened  his  mouth 
And  the  voice  of  his  majesty  echoed  even  to  the  sky. 
And  the  gods  exclaimed :  Behold ! 
Thereupon  he  could  not  answer. 
His  jaws  chattered. 
All  his  limbs  trembled 
And  the  poison  gripped  his  flesh, 
As  the  Nile  seizes  upon  the  land." 

In  this  hymn  Egypt  has  again  preserved  for  us  a  primi- 
tive conception  of  the  serpent's  sting.  The  aging  of  the 
autumn  sun  as  an  image  of  human  senility  is  symbolically 
traced  back  to  the  mother  through  the  poisoning  by  the 
serpent.  The  mother  is  reproached,  because  her  malice 
causes  the  death  of  the  sun-god.  The  serpent,  the  primi- 
tive symbol  of  fear,"^  Illustrates  the  repressed  tendency  to 
turn  back  to  the  mother,  because  the  only  possibility  of 
security  from  death  Is  possessed  by  the  mother,  as  the 
source  of  life. 

Accordingly,  only  the  mother  can  cure  him,  sick  unto 
death,  and,  therefore,  the  hymn  goes  on  to  depict  how  the 
gods  were  assembled  to  take  counsel: 

"  And  Isis  came  with  her  wisdom : 
Her  mouth  is  full  of  the  breath  of  life, 
Her  words  banish  sorrow, 
And  her  speech  animates  those  who  no  longer  breathe. 


334       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

She  said :  '  What  is  that ;  what  is  that,  divine  father  ? 
Behold,  a  worm  has  brought  you  sorrow ' 

"  '  Tell  me  thy  name,  divine  father, 

Because  the  man  remains  alive,  who  is  called  by  his  name.'  " 

Whereupon  Re  replied: 

"  '  I  am  he,  who  created  heaven  and  earth,  and  piled  up  the  hills, 
And  created  all  beings  thereon. 

I  am  he,  who  made  the  water  and  caused  the  great  flood, 
Who  produced  the  bull  of  his  mother. 
Who  is  the  procreator,'  etc. 

"  The  poison  did  not  depart,  it  went  further, 
The  great  God  was  not  cured. 
Then  said  Isis  to  Re: 
'  Thine  is  not  the  name  thou  hast  told  me. 
Tell  me  true  that  the  poison  may  leave  thee, 
For  he  whose  name  is  spoken  will  live.'  " 

Finally  Re  decides  to  speak  his  true  name.  He  is  ap- 
proximately healed  (imperfect  composition  of  Osiris)  ; 
but  he  has  lost  his  power,  and  finally  he  retreats  to  the 
heavenly  cow. 

The  poisonous  worm  is,  If  one  may  speak  In  this  way, 
a  "  negative  "  phallus,  a  deadly,  not  an  animating,  form 
of  libido;  therefore,  a  wish  for  death.  Instead  of  a  wish 
for  life.  The  "true  name"  Is  soul  and  magic  power; 
hence  a  symbol  of  libido.  What  Isis  demands  is  the  re- 
transference  of  the  libido  to  the  mother  goddess.  This 
request  Is  fulfilled  literally,  for  the  aged  god  turns  back 
to  the  divine  cow,  the  symbol  of  the  mother.^^  This  sym- 
bolism is  clear  from  our  previous  explanations.  The 
onward  urging,  living  libido  which  rules  the  conscious- 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  335' 

ness  of  the  son,  demands  separation  from  the  mother. 
The  longing  of  the  child  for  the  mother  is  a  hindrance 
on  the  path  to  this,  taking  the  form  of  a  psychologic  re- 
sistance, which  Is  expressed  empirically  in  the  neurosis  by 
all  manners  of  fears,  that  Is  to  say,  the  fear  of  life.  The 
more  a  person  withdraws  from  adaptation  to  reality,  and 
falls  Into  slothful  Inactivity,  the  greater  becomes  his 
anxiety  (cum  grano  sails),  which  everywhere  besets  him 
at  each  point  as  a  hindrance  upon  his  path.  The  fear 
springs  from  the  mother,  that  is  to  say,  from  the  longing 
to  go  back  to  the  mother,  which  is  opposed  to  the  adapta- 
tion to  reality.  This  is  the  way  In  which  the  mother  has 
become  apparently  the  malicious  pursuer.  Naturally,  it 
is  not  the  actual  mother,  although  the  actual  mother,  with 
the  abnormal  tenderness  with  which  she  sometimes  pur- 
sues her  child,  even  into  adult  years,  may  gravely  Injure 
it  through  a  willful  prolonging  of  the  infantile  state  in 
the  child.  It  is  rather  the  mother-Imago,  which  becomes 
the  Lamia.  The  mother-Imago,  however,  possesses  its 
power  solely  and  exclusively  from  the  son's  tendency  not 
only  to  look  and  to  work  forwards,  but  also  to  glance 
backwards  to  the  pampering  sweetness  of  childhood,  to 
that  glorious  state  of  Irresponsibility  and  security  with 
which  the  protecting  mother-care  once  surrounded  him.^^ 
The  retrospective  longing  acts  like  a  paralyzing  poison 
upon  the  energy  and  enterprise;  so  that  it  may  well  be 
compared  to  a  poisonous  serpent  which  lies  across  our 
path.  Apparently,  it  is  a  hostile  demon  which  robs  us 
of  energy,  but,  in  reality,  it  is  the  individual  unconscious, 
the  retrogressive  tendency  of  which  begins  to  overcome 


336       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

the  conscious  forward  striving.  The  cause  of  this  can 
be,  for  example,  the  natural  aging  which  weakens  the 
energy,  or  it  may  be  great  external  difficulties,  which 
cause  man  to  break  down  and  become  a  child  again,  or 
it  may  be,  and  this  is  probably  the  most  frequent  cause, 
the  woman  who  enslaves  the  man,  so  that  he  can  no 
longer  free  himself,  and  becomes  a  child  again/"  It  may 
be  of  significance  also  that  Isis,  as  sister-wife  of  the  sun- 
god,  creates  the  poisonous  animal  from  the  spittle  of  the 
god,  which  is  perhaps  a  substitute  for  sperma,  and,  there- 
fore, is  a  symbol  of  libido.  She  creates  the  animal  from 
the  libido  of  the  god;  that  means  she  receives  his  power, 
making  him  weak  and  dependent,  so  that  by  this  means 
she  assumes  the  dominating  role  of  the  mother.  (Mother 
transference  to  the  wife.)  This  part  is  preserved  in  the 
legend  of  Samson,  in  the  role  of  Delilah,  who  cut  off 
Samson's  hair,  the  sun's  rays,  thus  robbing  him  of  his 
strength.*^  Any  weakening  of  the  adult  man  strengthens 
the  wishes  of  the  unconscious;  therefore,  the  decrease  of 
strength  appears  directly  as  the  backward  striving  towards 
the  mother. 

There  is  still  to  be  considered  one  more  source  of  the 
reanimation  of  the  mother-Imago.  We  have  already  met 
it  in  the  discussion  of  the  mother  scene  in  "  Faust,"  that 
is  to  say,  the  willed  introversion  of  a  creative  mind,  which, 
retreating  before  its  own  problem  and  inwardly  collecting 
its  forces,  dips  at  least  for  a  moment  into  the  source  of 
life,  in  order  there  to  wrest  a  little  more  strength  from 
the  mother  for  the  completion  of  its  work.  It  is  a  mother- 
child  play  with  one's  self,  in  which  lies  much  weak  self- 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  337 

admiration  and  self-adulation  ("Among  a  hundred  mir- 
rors"— Nietzsche);  a  Narcissus  state,  a  strange  spec- 
tacle, perhaps,  for  profane  eyes.  The  separation  from 
the  mother-imago,  the  birth  out  of  one's  self,  reconciles  all 
conflicts  through  the  sufferings.  This  is  probably  meant 
by  Nietzsche's  verse : 

"  Why  hast  thou  enticed  thyself 
Into  the  Paradise  of  the  old  serpent? 
Why  hast  thou  crept 
Into  thyself,  thyself?  .   .   . 

"  A  sick  man  now- 
Sick  of  a  serpent's  poison," 
A  captive  now 

Whom  the  hardest  destiny  befell 
In  thine  own  pit; 
Bowed  down  as  thou  workest 
Encaved  within  thyself, 
Burrowing  into  thyself, 
Helpless, 
Stiff, 
A  corpse. 

Overwhelmed  with  a  hundred  burdens, 
Overburdened  by  thyself. 
A  wise  man, 
A  self-knower, 
The  wise  Zarathustra ; 
Thou  soughtest  the  heaviest  burden 
And  foundest  thou  thyself.  ..." 

The  symbolism  of  this  speech  is  of  the  greatest  rich" 
ness.  He  is  buried  in  the  depths  of  self,  as  if  in  the  earth; 
really  a  dead  man  who  has  turned  back  to  mother 
earth;  *"  a  Kaineus  "  piled  with  a  hundred  burdens  "  and 
pressed  down  to  death;  the  one  who  groaning  bears  the 


338       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

heavy  burden  of  his  own  libido,  of  that  libido  which 
draws  him  back  to  the  mother.  Who  does  not  think  of 
the  Taurophoria  of  Mithra,  who  took  his  bull  (accord- 
ing to  the  Egyptian  hymn,  "the  bull  of  his  mother"), 
that  is,  his  love  for  his  mother,  the  heaviest  burden  upon 
his  back,  and  with  that  entered  upon  the  painful  course 
of  the  so-called  Transitus  !  **  This  path  of  passion  led  to 
the  cave,  in  which  the  bull  was  sacrificed.  Christ,  too,  had 
to  bear  the  cross, ^^  the  symbol  of  his  love  for  the  mother, 
and  he  carried  it  to  the  place  of  sacrifice  where  the  lamb 
was  slain  in  the  form  of  the  God,  the  infantile  man,  a 
"  self-executioner,"  and  then  to  burial  in  the  subterranean 
sepulchre.''*' 

That  which  in  Nietzsche  appears  as  a  poetical  figure  of 
speech  is  really  a  primitive  myth.  It  is  as  if  the  poet 
still  possessed  a  dim  idea  or  capacity  to  feel  and  reacti- 
vate those  imperishable  phantoms  of  long-past  worlds  of 
thought  in  the  words  of  our  present-day  speech  and  in 
the  images  which  crowd  themselves  into  his  phantasy. 
Hauptmann  also  says:  "  Poetic  rendering  is  that  which 
allows  the  echo  of  the  primitive  word  to  resound  through 
the  form."  '' 

The  sacrifice,  with  its  mysterious  and  manifold  mean- 
ing, which  is  rather  hinted  at  than  expressed,  passes  un- 
recognized in  the  unconscious  of  our  author.  The  arrow 
is  not  shot,  the  hero  Chiwantopel  is  not  yet  fatally 
poisoned  and  ready  for  death  through  self-sacrifice.  We 
now  can  say,  according  to  the  preceding  material,  this 
sacrifice  means  renouncing  the  mother,  that  is  to  say,  re- 


THE  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  339 

nunciation  of  all  bonds  and  limitations  which  the  soul 
has  taken  with  it  from  the  period  of  childhood  into  the 
adult  life.  From  various  hints  of  Miss  Miller's  it  ap- 
pears that  at  the  time  of  these  phantasies  she  was  still 
living  in  the  circle  of  the  family,  evidently  at  an  age 
which  was  in  urgent  need  of  independence.  That  is  to 
say,  man  does  not  live  very  long  in  the  infantile  environ- 
ment or  in  the  bosom  of  his  family  without  real  danger 
to  his  mental  health.  Life  calls  him  forth  to  independ- 
ence, and  he  who  gives  no  heed  to  this  hard  call  because 
of  childish  indolence  and  fear  is  threatened  by  a  neurosis, 
and  once  the  neurosis  has  broken  out  it  becomes  more  and 
more  a  valid  reason  to  escape  the  battle  with  life  and  to 
remain  for  all  time  in  the  morally  poisoned  infantile 
atmosphere. 

The  phantasy  of  the  arrow-wound  belongs  in  this 
stru£;gle  for  personal  independence.  The  thought  of  this 
resolution  has  not  yet  penetrated  the  dreamer.  On  the 
contrary,  she  rather  repudiates  it.  After  all  the  preced- 
ing, it  is  evident  that  the  symbolism  of  the  arrow-wound 
through  direct  translation  must  be  taken  as  a  coitus 
symbol.  The  "  Occide  moriturus  "  attains  by  this  means 
the  sexual  significance  belonging  to  it.  Chiwantopel  natu- 
rally represents  the  dreamer.  But  nothing  is  attained  and 
nothing  is  understood  through  one's  reduction  to  the 
coarse  sexual,  because  it  is  a  commonplace  that  the  un- 
conscious shelters  coitus  wishes,  the  discovery  of  which 
signifies  nothing  further.  The  coitus  ivish  under  this 
aspect  is  really  a  symbol  for  the  individual  demonstration 
of  the  libido  separated  from  the  parents,  of  the  conquest 


340       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

of  an  independent  life.  This  step  towards  a  new  life 
means,  at  the  same  time,  the  death  of  the  past  life.*^ 
Therefore,  Chiwantopel  is  the  infantile  hero  ***  (the  son, 
the  child,  the  lamb,  the  fish)  who  is  still  enchained  by 
the  fetters  of  childhood  and  who  has  to  die  as  a  symbol 
of  the  incestuous  libido,  and  with  that  sever  the  retro- 
gressive bond.  For  the  entire  libido  is  demanded  for 
the  battle  of  life,  and  there  can  be  no  remaining  behind. 
The  dreamer  cannot  yet  come  to  this  decision,  which  will 
tear  aside  all  the  sentimental  connections  with  father 
and  mother,  and  yet  it  must  be  made  in  order  to  follow 
the  call  of  the  individual  destiny. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE 

After  the  disappearance  of  the  assailant,  Chiwantopel 
begins  the  following  monologue : 

"  From  the  extreme  ends  of  these  continents,  from  the  farthest 
lowlands,  after  having  forsaken  the  palace  of  my  father,  I  have 
been  wandering  aimlessly  during  a  hundred  moons,  always  pur- 
sued by  my  mad  desire  to  find  '  her  who  will  understand.'  With 
jewels  I  have  tempted  many  fair  ones,  with  kisses  I  have  tried 
to  snatch  the  secret  of  their  hearts,  with  acts  of  bravery  I  have 
conquered  their  admiration.  (He  reviews  the  women  he  has 
known.)  Chita,  the  princess  of  my  race  .  .  .  she  is  a  little  fool, 
vain  as  a  peacock,  having  nought  in  her  head  but  jewels  and 
perfume.  Ta-nan,  the  young  peasant,  .  .  .  bah,  a  mere  sow,  no 
more  than  a  breast  and  a  stomach,  caring  only  for  pleasure.  And 
then  Ki-ma,  the  priestess,  a  true  parrot,  repeating  hollow  phrases 
learnt  from  the  priests;  all  for  show,  without  real  education  or 
sincerity,  suspicious  poseur  and  hypocrite!  .  .  .  Alas!  Not  one 
who  understands  me,  not  one  who  resembles  me,  not  one  who 
has  a  soul  sister  to  mine.  There  is  not  one  among  them  all  who 
has  known  my  soul,  not  one  who  could  read  my  thought;  far 
from  it;  not  one  capable  of  seeking  with  me  the  luminous  sum- 
mits, or  of  spelling  with  me  the  superhuman  word,  love." 

Here  Chiwantopel  himself  says  that  his  journeying  and 
wandering  is  a  quest  for  that  other,  and  for  the  meaning 
of  life  which  lies  in  union  with  her.  In  the  first  part  of 
this  work  we  merely  hinted  gently  at  this  possibility.  The 
fact  that  the  seeker  is  masculine  and  the  sought-for  of 

341 


342       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

feminine  sex  is  not  so  astonishing,  because  the  chief  object 
of  the  unconscious  transference  is  the  mother,  as  has 
probably  been  seen  from  that  which  we  have  already 
learned.  The  daughter  takes  a  male  attitude  towards  the 
mother.  The  genesis  of  this  adjustment  can  only  be  sus- 
pected in  our  case,  because  objective  proof  is  lacking. 
Therefore,  let  us  rather  be  satisfied  with  inferences. 
"  She  who  will  understand  "  means  the  mother,  in  the  in- 
fantile language.  At  the  same  time,  it  also  means  the  life 
companion.  As  is  well  known,  the  sex  contrast  concerns 
the  libido  but  little.  The  sex  of  the  object  plays  a  sur- 
prisingly slight  role  in  the  estimation  of  the  unconscious. 
The  object  itself,  taken  as  an  objective  reality,  is  but  of 
slight  significance.  (But  it  is  of  greatest  importance 
whether  the  libido  is  transferred  or  introverted.)  The 
original  concrete  meaning  of  erfassen,  "  to  seize," 
begreifen,  "  to  touch,"  etc.,  allows  us  to  recognize  clearly 
the  under  side  of  the  wish — to  find  a  congenial  person. 
But  the  "  upper  "  intellectual  half  is  also  contained  in  it, 
and  is  to  be  taken  into  account  at  the  same  time.  One 
might  be  inclined  to  assume  this  tendency  if  it  were  not 
that  our  culture  abused  the  same,  for  the  misunderstood 
woman  has  become  almost  proverbial,  which  can  only  be 
the  result  of  a  wholly  distorted  valuation.  On  the  one 
side,  our  culture  undervalues  most  extraordinarily  the  im- 
portance of  sexuality;  on  the  other  side,  sexuality  breaks 
out  as  a  direct  result  of  the  repression  burdening  it  at 
every  place  where  it  does  not  belong,  and  makes  use  of 
such  an  indirect  manner  of  expression  that  one  may  ex- 
pect to  meet  it  suddenly  almost  anywhere.     Thus  the 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  343 

idea  of  the  intimate  comprehension  of  a  human  soul, 
which  Is  In  reality  something  very  beautiful  and  pure,  is 
soiled  and  disagreeably  distorted  through  the  entrance 
of  the  indirect  sexual  meaning/  The  secondary  meaning 
or,  better  expressed,  the  misuse,  which  repressed  and 
denied  sexuality  forces  upon  the  highest  soul  functions, 
makes  it  possible,  for  example,  for  certain  of  our  oppo- 
nents to  scent  in  psychoanalysis  prurient  erotic  confes- 
sionals. These  are  subjective  wish-fulfilment  deliria 
which  need  no  contra  arguments.  This  misuse  makes  the 
wish  to  be  "  understood  "  highly  suspicious.  If  the  natural 
demands  of  life  have  not  been  fulfilled.  Nature  has  first 
claim  on  man;  only  long  afterwards  does  the  luxury  of 
intellect  come.  The  mediaeval  ideal  of  life  for  the  sake 
of  death  needs  gradually  to  be  replaced  by  a  natural  con- 
ception of  life,  in  which  the  normal  demands  of  men  are 
thoroughly  kept  in  mind,  so  that  the  desires  of  the  animal 
sphere  may  no  longer  be  compelled  to  drag  down  into 
their  service  the  high  gifts  of  the  intellectual  sphere  In 
order  to  find  an  outlet.  We  are  inclined,  therefore,  to 
consider  the  dreamer's  wish  for  understanding,  first  of 
all,  as  a  repressed  striving  towards  the  natural  destiny. 
This  meaning  coincides  absolutely  with  psychoanalytic 
experience,  that  there  are  countless  neurotic  people  who 
apparently  are  prevented  from  experiencing  life  because 
they  have  an  unconscious  and  often  also  a  conscious  re- 
pugnance to  the  sexual  fate,  under  which  they  imagine 
all  kinds  of  ugly  things.  There  is  only  too  great  an  In- 
clination to  yield  to  this  pressure  of  the  unconscious  sexu- 
ality and  to  experience  the  dreaded  (unconsciously  hoped 


344       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

for)  disagreeable  sexual  experience,  so  as  to  acquire  by 
that  means  a  legitimately  founded  horror  which  retains 
them  more  surely  in  the  infantile  situation.  This  is  the 
reason  why  so  many  people  fall  into  that  very  state 
towards  which  they  have  the  greatest  abhorrence. 

That  we  were  correct  In  our  assumption  that,  in  Miss 
Miller,  it  is  a  question  of  the  battle  for  independence 
is  shown  by  her  statement  that  the  hero's  departure  from 
his  father's  house  reminds  her  of  the  fate  of  the  young 
Buddha,  who  likewise  renounced  all  luxury  to  which  he 
was  born  in  order  to  go  out  into  the  world  to  live  out 
his  destiny  to  its  completion.  Buddha  gave  the  same 
heroic  example  as  did  Christ,  who  separated  from  his 
mother,  and  even  spoke  bitter  words  (Matthew,  chap. 
X,  V.  34)  : 

"Think  not  that  I  am  come  to  send  peace  on  earth:  I  came 
not  to  send  peace,  but  a  sword. 

(35)  "For  I  am  come  to  set  a  man  at  variance  against  his 
father,  and  the  daughter  against  her  mother,  and  the  daughter- 
in-law  against  her  mother-in-law. 

(36)  "  And  a  man's  foes  shall  be  they  of  his  own  household. 

(37)  "  He  that  loveth  father  or  mother  more  than  me  is  not 
worthy  of  me." 

Or  Luke,  chap,  xli,  v.  5 1 : 

"  Suppose  ye  that  I  am  come  to  give  peace  on  earth?  I  tell  you, 
Nay:  but  rather  division. 

(52)  "  For  from  henceforth  there  shall  be  five  in  one  house 
divided,  three  against  two,  and  two  against  three. 

(53)  "  The  father  shall  be  divided  against  the  son,  and  the  son 
against  the  father;  the  mother  against  the  daughter,  and  the 
daughter    against    the    mother;    the    mother-in-law    against    the 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  345 

daughter-in-law,  and  the  daughter-in-law  against  her  mother-in- 
law." 

Horus  snatched  from  his  mother  her  head  adornment, 
the  power.  Just  as  Adam  struggled  with  Lilith,  so  he 
struggles  for  power.  Nietzsche,  in  "  Human,  All  Too 
Human,"  expressed  the  same  in  very  beautiful  words: 

"  One  may  suppose  that  a  mind,  in  which  the  '  type  of  free 
mind  '  is  to  ripen  and  sweeten  at  maturity,  has  had  its  decisive 
crisis  in  a  great  detachment,  so  that  before  this  time  it  was  just 
so  much  the  more  a  fettered  spirit  and  appeared  chained  for- 
ever to  its  corner  and  its  pillar.^  What  binds  it  most  firmly? 
What  cords  are  almost  untearable?  Among  human  beings  of  a 
high  and  exquisite  type,  it  would  be  duties:  that  reverence,  which 
is  suitable  for  youth,  that  modesty  and  tenderness  for  all  the  old 
honored  and  valued  things,  that  thankfulness  for  the  earth  from 
which  they  grew,  for  the  hand  which  guided  them,  for  the  shrine 
where  they  learnt  to  pray: — their  loftiest  moments  themselves 
come  to  bind  them  the  firmest,  to  obligate  them  the  most  perma- 
nently. The  great  detachment  comes  suddenly  for  people  so 
bound. 

"  '  Better  to  die  than  to  live  here,' — thus  rings  the  imperative 
voice  of  seduction:  and  this  here,  this  '  at  home  '  is  all,  that  it  (the 
soul)  has  loved  until  now!  A  sudden  terror  and  suspicion  against 
that  which  it  has  loved,  a  lightning  flash  of  scorn  towards  that 
which  is  called  '  duty,'  a  rebellious,  arbitrary,  volcanic,  impelling 
desire  for  travelling,  for  strange  countries,  estrangements,  cool- 
ness, frigidity,  disillusionments,  a  hatred  of  love,  perhaps  a  sacri- 
legious touch  and  glance  backwards  ^  there  where  just  now  it 
adored  and  loved,  perhaps  a  blush  of  shame  over  what  it  has  just 
done,  and  at  the  same  time  an  exultation  over  having  done  it,  an 
intoxicating  internal  joyous  thrill,  in  which  a  victory  reveals  itself 
— a  victory?  Over  what?  Over  whom?  An  enigmatic,  doubt- 
ful, questioning  victory,  but  the  first  triumph.  Of  such  woe  and 
pain  is  formed  the  history  of  the  great  detachment.  It  is  like  a 
disease  which  can  destroy  men, — this  first  eruption  of  strength 
and  will  towards  self-assertion."  * 


346       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

The  danger  lies,  as  is  brilliantly  expressed  by  Nietzsche, 
in  isolation  in  one's  self: 

"  Solitude  surrounds  and  embraces  him  ever  more  threatening, 
ever  more  constricting,  ever  more  heart-strangling,  the  terrible 
Goddess  and  Mater  ssva  cupidinum," 

The  libido  taken  avv^ay  from  the  mother,  who  is  aban- 
doned only  reluctantly,  becomes  threatening  as  a  serpent, 
the  symbol  of  death,  for  the  relation  to  the  mother  must 
cease,  must  die,  which  itself  almost  causes  man's  death. 
In  "  Mater  saeva  cupidinum  "  the  idea  attains  rare,  almost 
conscious,  perfection. 

I  do  not  presume  to  try  to  paint  in  better  words  than 
has  Nietzsche  the  psychology  of  the  wrench  from  child- 
hood. 

Miss  Miller  furnishes  us  with  a  further  reference  to 
a  material  which  has  influenced  her  creation  in  a  more 
general  manner;  this  is  the  great  Indian  epic  of  Long- 
fellow, "  The  Song  of  Hiawatha." 

If  my  readers  have  had  patience  to  read  thus  far,  and 
to  reflect  upon  what  they  have  read,  they  frequently  must 
have  wondered  at  the  number  of  times  I  introduce  for 
comparison  such  apparently  foreign  material  and  how 
often  I  widen  the  base  upon  which  Miss  Miller's  crea- 
tions rest.  Doubts  must  often  have  arisen  whether  it  is 
justifiable  to  enter  into  important  discussions  concerning 
the  psychologic  foundations  of  myths,  religions  and  cul- 
ture in  general  on  the  basis  of  such  scanty  suggestions. 
It  might  be  said  that  behind  the  Miller  phantasies  such  a 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  r6lE  347 

thing  is  scarcely  to  be  found.  I  need  hardly  emphasize 
the  fact  that  I,  too,  have  sometimes  been  in  doubt.  I 
had  never  read  "  Hiawatha  "  until,  in  the  course  of  my 
work,  I  came  to  this  part.  "  Hiawatha,"  a  poetical  com- 
pilation of  Indian  myths,  gives  me,  however,  a  justifica- 
tion for  all  preceding  reflections,  because  this  epic  con- 
tains an  unusual  number  of  mythologic  problems.  This 
fact  is  probably  of  great  importance  for  the  wealth  of 
suggestions  in  the  Miller  phantasies.  We  are,  therefore, 
compelled  to  obtain  an  insight  into  this  epic. 

Nawadaha  sings  the  songs  of  the  epic  of  the  hero 
Hiawatha,  the  friend  of  man : 

"  There  he  sang  of  Hiawatha, 
Sang  the  songs  of  Hiawatha, 
Sang  his  wondrous  birth  and  being, 
How  he  prayed  and  how  he  fasted, 
How  he  lived  and  toiled  and  suffered, 
That  the  tribes  of  men  might  prosper, 
That  he  might  advance  his  people." 

The  teleological  meaning  of  the  hero,  as  that  symbolic 
figure  which  unites  in  itself  libido  in  the  form  of  admira- 
tion and  adoration,  in  order  to  lead  to  higher  sublima- 
tions by  way  of  the  symbolic  bridges  of  the  myths,  is 
anticipated  here.  Thus  we  become  quickly  acquainted 
with  Hiawatha  as  a  savior,  and  are  prepared  to  hear  all 
that  which  must  be  said  of  a  savior,  of  his  marvellous 
birth,  of  his  early  great  deeds,  and  his  sacrifice  for  his 
fellow-men. 

The  first  song  begins  with  a  fragment  of  evangelism: 
Gitche  Manito,  the  "  master  of  life,"  tired  of  the  quarrels 


348       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

of  his  human  children,  calls  his  people  together  and  makes 
known  to  them  the  joyous  message : 

"  I  will  send  a  prophet  to  you, 
A  Deliverer  of  the  nations, 
Who  shall  guide  you  and  shall  teach  you, 
Who  shall  toil  and  suffer  with  you. 
If  you  listen  to  his  counsels, 
You  will  multiply  and  prosper. 
If  his  warnings  pass  unheeded. 
You  will  fade  away  and  perish !  " 

Gitche  Manito,  the  Mighty,  "  the  creator  of  the  na- 
tions," is  represented  as  he  stood  erect  "  on  the  great  Red 
Pipestone  quarry." 

"  From  his  footprints  flowed  a  river, 
Leaped  into  the  light  of  morning. 
O'er  the  precipice  plunging  downward 
Gleamed  like  Ishkoodah,  the  comet." 

The  water  flowing  from  his  footsteps  sufficiently 
proves  the  phallic  nature  of  this  creator.  I  refer  to  the 
earlier  utterances  concerning  the  phallic  and  fertilizing 
nature  of  the  horse's  foot  and  the  horse's  steps,  and  espe- 
cially do  I  recall  Hippocrene  and  the  foot  of  Pegasus.^ 
We  meet  with  the  same  idea  in  Psalm  Ixv,  vv.  9  to  11: 

"  Thou  visitest  the  earth,  and  waterest  it;  thou  makest  it  very 
plenteous. 

"  The  river  of  God  is  full  of  water;  thou  preparest  their  corn, 
for  so  thou  providest  for  the  earth. 

"Thou  waterest  her  furrows:  thou  sendest  rain  into  the  little 
valleys  thereof;  thou  makest  it  soft  with  the  drops  of  rain,  and 
blessest  the  increase  of  it. 

"Thou  crownest  the  year  with  thy  goodness;  and  thy  paths 
drop  fatness." 


I 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  349 

Wherever  the  fertilizing  God  steps,  there  is  fruitful- 
ness.  We  already  have  spoken  of  the  symbolic  meaning 
of  treading  in  discussing  the  nightmares.  Kaineus  passes 
into  the  depths,  "  splitting  the  earth  with  a  foot  out- 
stretched." Amphiaraus,  another  chthonic  hero,  sinks 
into  the  earth,  which  Zeus  has  opened  for  him  by  a  stroke 
of  lightning.  (Compare  with  that  the  above-mentioned 
vision  of  a  hysterical  patient,  who  saw  a  black  horse  after 
a  flash  of  lightning:  identity  of  horse's  footstep  and  flash 
of  lightning.)  By  means  of  a  flash  of  lightning  heroes 
were  made  immortal.®  Faust  attained  the  mothers  when 
he  stamped  his  foot. 

"  Stamp  and  descend,  stamping  thou'lt  rise  again." 

The  heroes  in  the  sun-devouring  myths  often  stamp  at 
or  struggle  in  the  jaws  of  the  monster.  Thus  Tor 
stamped  through  the  ship's  bottom  in  battle  with  the 
monster,  and  went  as  far  as  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 
(Kaineus.)  (Concerning  "kicking"  as  an  infantile 
phantasy,  see  above.)  The  regression  of  the  libido  to 
the  presexual  stage  makes  this  preparatory  action  of 
treading  either  a  substitution  for  the  coitus  phantasy  or 
for  the  phantasy  of  re-entrance  into  the  mother's  womb. 
The  comparison  of  water  flowing  from  the  footsteps  with 
a  comet  is  a  light  symbolism  for  the  fructifying  moisture 
(sperma).  According  to  an  observation  by  Humboldt 
(Kosmos),  certain  South  American  Indian  tribes  call  the 
meteors  "  urine  of  the  stars."  Mention  is  also  made  of 
how  Gitche  Manito  makes  fire.  He  blows  upon  a  forest, 
so  that  the  trees,  rubbing  upon  each  other,  burst  into 


350       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

flame.    This  demon  is,  therefore,  an  excellent  libido  sym- 
bol; he  also  produced  fire. 

After  this  prologue  in  the  second  song,  the  hero's  pre- 
vious history  is  related.  The  great  warrior,  Mudjekeewis 
(Hiawatha's  father),  has  cunningly  overcome  the  great 
bear,  "  the  terror  of  the  nations,"  and  stolen  from  him 
the  magic  "  belt  of  wampum,"  a  girdle  of  shells.  Here 
we  meet  the  motive  of  the  "  treasure  attained  with  diffi- 
culty," which  the  hero  rescues  from  the  monster.  Who 
the  bear  is,  is  shown  by  the  poet's  comparisons.  Mudje- 
keewis strikes  the  bear  on  his  head  after  he  has  robbed 
him  of  the  treasure. 

"  With  the  heavy  blow  bewildered 
Rose  the  great  Bear  of  the  mountains, 
But  his  knees  beneath  him  trembled, 
And  he  whimpered  like  a  woman." 

Mudjekeewis  said  derisively  to  him: 

"  Else  you  would  not  cry,  and  whimper, 
Like  a  miserable  woman! 

But  you,  Bear!  sit  here  and  whimper, 
And  disgrace  your  tribe  by  crying, 
Like  a  wretched  Shaugodaya, 
Like  a  cowardly  old  woman!" 

These  three  comparisons  with  a  woman  are  to  be 
found  near  each  other  on  the  same  page.  Mudjekeewis 
has,  like  a  true  hero,  once  more  torn  life  from  the  jaws 
of  death,  from  the  all-devouring  "  terrible  mother." 
This  deed,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  is  also  represented  as 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  r6lE  35  i 

a  journey  to  hell,  "  night  journey  through  the  sea,"  the 
conquering  of  the  monster  from  within,  signifies  at  the 
same  time  entrance  into  the  mother's  womb,  a  rebirth, 
the  results  of  which  are  perceptible  also  for  Mudjekeewis. 
As  in  the  Zosimos  vision,  here  too  the  entering  one  be- 
comes the  breath  of  the  wind  or  spirit.  Mudjekeewis 
becomes  the  west  wind,  the  fertilizing  breath,  the  father 
of  winds. ^  His  sons  become  the  other  winds.  An  inter- 
mezzo tells  of  them  and  of  their  love  stories,  of  which  I 
will  mention  only  the  courtship  of  Wabuns,  the  East 
Wind,  because  here  the  erotic  wooing  of  the  wind  is  pic- 
tured in  an  especially  beautiful  manner.  Every  morning 
he  sees  a  beautiful  girl  in  a  meadow,  whom  he  eagerly 
courts : 

"  Every  morning,  gazing  earthward, 
Still  the  first  thing  he  beheld  there 
Was  her  blue  eyes  looking  at  him, 
Two  blue  lakes  among  the  rushes." 

The  comparison  with  water  is  not  a  matter  of  sec- 
ondary importance,  because  "  from  wind  and  water " 
shall  man  be  born  anew. 

"  And  he  wooed  her  with  caresses, 
Wooed  her  with  his  smile  of  sunshine, 
With  his  flattering  words  he  wooed  her, 
With  his  sighing  and  his  singing, 
Gentlest  whispers  in  the  branches, 
Softest  music,  sweetest  odors,"  etc. 

In   these   onomatopoetic  verses   the   wind's   caressing 
courtship  is  excellently  expressed.* 


352       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

The  third  song  presents  the  previous  history  of 
Hiawatha's  mother.  His  grandmother,  when  a  maiden, 
lived  in  the  moon.  There  she  once  swung  upon  a  liana, 
but  a  jealous  lover  cut  off  the  liana,  and  Nokomis, 
Hiawatha's  grandmother,  fell  to  earth.  The  people,  who 
saw  her  fall  downwards,  thought  that  she  was  a  shooting 
star.  This  marvellous  descent  of  Nokomis  is  more 
plainly  illustrated  by  a  later  passage  of  this  same  song; 
there  little  Hiawatha  asks  the  grandmother  what  is  the 
moon.  Nokomis  teaches  him  about  it  as  follows:  The 
moon  is  the  body  of  a  grandmother,  whom  a  warlike 
grandson  has  cast  up  there  in  wrath.  Hence  the  moon  is 
the  grandmother.  In  ancient  beliefs,  the  moon  is  also 
the  gathering  place  of  departed  souls,®  the  guardian  of 
seeds;  therefore,  once  more  a  place  of  the  origin  of  life 
of  predominantly  feminine  significance.  The  remarkable 
thing  is  that  Nokomis,  falling  upon  the  earth,  gave  birth 
to  a  daughter,  Wenonah,  subsequently  the  mother  of 
Hiawatha.  The  throwing  upwards  of  the  mother,  and 
her  falling  down  and  bringing  forth,  seems  to  contain 
something  typical  in  itself.  Thus  a  story  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  relates  that  a  mad  bull  threw  a  pregnant 
woman  as  high  as  a  house,  and  tore  open  her  womb,  and 
the  child  fell  without  harm  upon  the  earth.  On  account 
of  his  wonderful  birth,  this  child  was  considered  a  hero 
or  doer  of  miracles,  but  he  died  at  an  early  age.  The 
belief  is  widespread  among  lower  savages  that  the  sun  is 
feminine  and  the  moon  masculine.  Among  the  Namaqua, 
a  Hottentot  tribe,  the  opinion  is  prevalent  that  the  sun 
consists  of  transparent  bacon. 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  353 

"  The  people,  who  journey  on  boats,  draw  it  down  by  magic 
every  evening,  cut  off  a  suitable  piece  and  then  give  it  a  kick  so 
that  it  flies  up  again  into  the  sky." — Waitz:  "  Anthropologie," 

n,  342. 

The  infantile  nourishment  comes  from  the  mother.  In 
the  Gnostic  phantasies  we  come  across  a  legend  of  the 
origin  of  man  which  possibly  belongs  here :  the  female 
archons  bound  to  the  vault  of  Heaven  are  unable,  on 
account  of  its  quick  rotation,  to  keep  their  young  within 
them,  but  let  them  fall  upon  the  earth,  from  which  men 
arise.  Possibly  there  is  here  a  connection  with  barbaric 
midwifery,  the  letting  fall  of  the  parturient.  The  assault 
upon  the  mother  is  already  introduced  with  the  adventure 
of  Mudjekeewis,  and  is  continued  in  the  violent  handling 
of  the  "  grandmother,"  Nokomis,  who,  as  a  result  of  the 
cutting  of  the  liana  and  the  fall  downwards,  seems  in 
some  way  to  have  become  pregnant.  The  "  cutting  of 
the  branch,"  the  plucking,  we  have  already  recognized  as 
mother  incest.  (See  above.)  That  well-known  verse, 
"  Saxonland,  where  beautiful  maidens  grow  upon  trees," 
and  phrases  like  "  picking  cherries  in  a  neighbor's  gar- 
den," allude  to  a  similar  idea.  The  fall  downwards  of 
Nokomis  deserves  to  be  compared  to  a  poetical  figure  in 
Heine. 

"  A  star,  a  star  is  falling 

Out  of  the  glittering  sky! 

The  star  of  Love!    I  watch  it 

Sink  in  the  depths  and  die. 

"  The  leaves  and  buds  are  falling 
From  many  an  apple-tree; 


354       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

I  watch  the  mirthful  breezes 
Embrace  them  wantonly  .  .  ." 

Wenonah  later  was  courted  by  the  caressing  West 
Wind,  and  becomes  pregnant.  Wenonah,  as  a  young 
moon-goddess,  has  the  beauty  of  the  moonlight.  Nokomis 
warns  her  of  the  dangerous  courtship  of  Mudjekeewis,  the 
West  Wind.  But  Wenonah  allows  herself  to  become  in- 
fatuated, and  conceives  from  the  breath  of  the  wind, 
from  the  nvevpia,  a  son,  our  hero. 

"  And  the  West- Wind  came  at  evening, 

Found  the  beautiful  Wenonah, 

Lying  there  amid  the  lilies, 

Wooed  her  with  his  words  of  sweetness, 

Wooed  her  with  his  soft  caresses, 

Till  she  bore  a  son  in  sorrow, 

Bore  a  son  of  love  and  sorrow." 

Fertilization  through  the  breath  of  the  spirit  is  already 
a  well-known  precedent  for  us.  The  star  or  comet 
plainly  belongs  to  the  birth  scene  as  a  libido  symbol;  No- 
komis, too,  comes  to  earth  as  a  shooting  star.  Morike's 
sweet  poetic  phantasy  has  devised  a  similar  divine  origin. 

"  And  she  who  bore  me  in  her  womb, 
And  gave  me  food  and  clothing. 
She  was  a  maid — a  wild,  brown  maid, 
Who  looked  on  men  with  loathing. 

"  She  fleered  at  them  and  laughed  out  loud, 
And  bade  no  suitor  tarry ; 
*  Fd  rather  be  the  Wind's  own  bride 
Than  have  a  man  and  marry.' 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  rOlE  355 

"  Then  came  the  Wind  and  held  her  fast 
His  captive,  love-enchanted; 
And  lo,  by  him  a  merry  child 
Within  her  womb  was  planted." 

Buddha's  marvellous  birth  story,  retold  by  Sir  Edwin 
Arnold,  also  shows  traces  of  this.^° 

"  Maya,  the  Queen  .    .    . 
Dreamed  a  strange  dream,  dreamed  that  a  star  from  heaven — 
Splendid,  six-rayed,  in  color  rosy-pearl, 
Whereof  the  token  was  an  Elephant 
Six-tusked  and  white  as  milk  of  Kamadhuk — 
Shot  through  the  void ;  and  shining  into  her, 
Entered  her  womb  upon  the  right."  ^^ 

During  Maya's  conception  a  wind  blows  over  the  land: 

"  A  wind  blew 
With  unknown  freshness  over  lands  and  seas." 

After  the  birth  the  four  genii  of  the  East,  West,  South 
and  North  come  to  render  service  as  bearers  of  the 
palanquin.  (The  coming  of  the  wise  men  at  Christ's 
birth.)  We  also  find  here  a  distinct  reference  to  the 
"  four  winds."  For  the  completion  of  the  symbolism 
there  is  to  be  found  in  the  Buddha  myth,  as  well  as  in 
the  birth  legend  of  Christ,  besides  the  impregnation  by 
star  and  wind,  also  the  fertilization  by  an  animal,  here 
an  elephant,  which  with  its  phallic  trunk  fulfilled  in  Maya 
the  Christian  method  of  fructification  through  the  ear  or 
the  head.  It  is  well  known  that,  in  addition  to  the  dove, 
the  unicorn  is  also  a  procreative  symbol  of  the  Logos. 

Here  arises  the  question  why  the  birth  of  a  hero  always 


356       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

had  to  take  place  under  such  strange  symbolic  circum- 
stances? It  might  also  be  imagined  that  a  hero  arose 
from  ordinary  surroundings  and  gradually  grew  out  of 
his  inferior  environment,  perhaps  with  a  thousand  trou- 
bles and  dangers.  (And,  indeed,  this  motive  is  by  no 
means  strange  in  the  hero  myth.)  It  might  be  said  that 
superstition  demands  strange  conditions  of  birth  and  gen- 
eration; but  why  does  it  demand  them? 

The  answer  to  this  question  is:  that  the  birth  of  the 
hero,  as  a  rule,  Is  not  that  of  an  ordinary  mortal,  but  is 
a  rebirth  from  the  mother-spouse;  hence  it  occurs  under 
mysterious  ceremonies.  Therefore,  in  the  very  begin- 
ning, lies  the  motive  of  the  two  mothers  of  the  hero.  As 
Rank  ^-  has  shown  us  through  many  examples,  the  hero 
is  often  obliged  to  experience  exposure,  and  upbringing 
by  foster  parents,  and  in  this  manner  he  acquires  the  two 
mothers.  A  striking  example  is  the  relation  of  Hercules 
to  Hera.  In  the  Hiawatha  epic  Wenonah  dies  after  the 
birth  and  Nokomis  takes  her  place.  Maya  dies  after  the 
birth  ^^  and  Buddha  is  given  a  stepmother.  The  step- 
mother is  sometimes  an  animal  (the  she-wolf  of  Romulus 
and  Remus,  etc.).  The  twofold  mother  may  be  replaced 
by  the  motive  of  twofold  birth,  which  has  attained  a 
lofty  significance  in  the  Christian  mythology;  namely, 
through  baptism,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  represents  re- 
birth. Thus  man  is  born  not  merely  in  a  commonplace 
manner,  but  also  born  again  In  a  mysterious  manner,  by 
means  of  which  he  becomes  a  participator  of  the  kingdom 
of  God,  of  Immortality.  Any  one  may  become  a  hero 
in   this  way  who   is  generated   anew  through  his  own 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  r5LE  357 

mother,  because  only  through  her  does  he  share  in  im- 
mortality. Therefore,  it  happened  that  the  death  of 
Christ  on  the  cross,  which  creates  universal  salvation,  was 
understood  as  "baptism";  that  is  to  say,  as  rebirth 
through  the  second  mother,  the  mysterious  tree  of  death. 
Christ  says: 

"  But  I  have  a  baptism  to  be  baptized  with :  and  how  am  I 
straitened  till  it  be  accomplished!  " — Luke  xii:  50. 

He  interprets  his  death  agony  symbolically  as  birth 
agony. 

The  motive  of  the  two  mothers  suggests  the  thought 
of  self-rejuvenation,  and  evidently  expresses  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  wish  that  it  might  be  possible  for  the  mother 
to  bear  me  again;  at  the  same  time,  applied  to  the  heroes, 
it  means  one  is  a  hero  who  is  borne  again  by  her  who  has 
previously  been  his  mother;  that  is  to  say,  a  hero  is  he 
who  may  again  produce  himself  through  his  mother. 

The  countless  suggestions  in  the  history  of  the  procrea- 
tion of  the  heroes  indicate  the  latter  formulations.  Hia- 
watha's father  first  overpowered  the  mother  under  the 
symbol  of  the  bear;  then  himself  becoming  a  god,  he  pro- 
creates the  hero.  What  Hiawatha  had  to  do  as  hero, 
Nokomis  hinted  to  him  in  the  legend  of  the  origin  of  the 
moon;  he  is  forcibly  to  throw  his  mother  upwards  (or 
throw  downwards?)  ;  then  she  would  become  pregnant 
by  this  act  of  violence  and  could  bring  forth  a  daughter. 
This  rejuvenated  mother  would  be  allotted,  according  to 
the  Egyptian  rite,  as  a  daughter-wife  to  the  sun-god,  the 
father  of  his  mother,  for  self-reproduction.    What  action 


358       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Hiawatha  takes  in  this  regard  we  shall  see  presently. 
We  have  already  studied  the  behavior  of  the  pre-Asiatic 
gods  related  to  Christ.  Concerning  the  pre-existence  of 
Christ,  the  Gospel  of  St.  John  is  full  of  this  thought. 
Thus  the  speech  of  John  the  Baptist: 

"  This  is  he  of  whom  I  said,  After  me  cometh  a  man  which  is 
preferred  before  me;  for  he  was  before  me." — John  i:  30. 

Also  the  beginning  of  the  gospel  is  full  of  deep  mytho- 
logic  significance : 

"  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word,  and  the  Word  was  with 
God,  and  the  Word  was  God.  The  same  was  in  the  beginning 
with  God. 

(3)  "  All  things  were  made  by  him,  and  without  him  was  not 
anything  made  that  was  made. 

(4)  "  In  him  was  life,  and  the  life  was  the  light  of  men. 

(5)  "  And  the  light  shineth  in  darkness;  and  the  darkness  com- 
prehendeth  it  not. 

(6)  "  There  was  a  man  sent  from  God  whose  name  was  John. 

(7)  "The  same  came  for  a  witness,  to  bear  witness  of  the 
Light. 

(8)  "  He  was  not  that  Light,  but  was  sent  to  bear  witness  of 
that  Light. 

(9)  "  That  was  the  true  Light,  which  lighteth  every  man  that 
cometh  into  the  world." 

This  is  the  proclamation  of  the  reappearing  light,  the 
reborn  sun,  which  formerly  was,  and  which  will  be  again. 
In  the  baptistry  at  Pisa,  Christ  is  represented  bringing 
the  tree  of  life  to  man;  his  head  is  surrounded  by  a  sun 
halo.    Over  this  relief  stand  the  words  Introitus  Sous. 

Because  the  one  born  was  his  own  procreator,  the  his- 
tory of  his  procreation  is  strangely  concealed  under  sym- 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  359 

bollc  events,  which  are  meant  to  conceal  and  deny  it; 
hence  the  extraordinary  assertion  of  the  virgin  concep- 
tion. This  is  meant  to  hide  the  incestuous  impregnation. 
But  do  not  let  us  forget  that  this  naive  assertion  plays  an 
unusually  important  part  in  the  ingenious  symbolic  bridge, 
which  is  to  guide  the  libido  out  from  the  incestuous  bond 
to  higher  and  more  useful  applications,  which  indicate  a 
new  kind  of  immortality;  that  is  to  say,  immortal  work. 

The  environment  of  Hiawatha's  youth  is  of  impor- 
tance : 

"  By  the  shores  of  Gitche  Gumee, 
By  the  shining  Big-Sea-Water, 
Stood  the  wigwam  of  Nokomis, 
Daughter  of  the  Moon,   Nokomis. 
Dark  behind  it  rose  the  forest, 
Rose  the  black  and  gloomy  pine-trees, 
Rose  the  firs  with  cones  upon  them. 
Bright  before  it  beat  the  water. 
Beat  the  clear  and  sunny  water, 
Beat  the  shining  Big-Sea- Water." 

In  this  environment  Nokomis  brought  him  up.  Here 
she  taught  him  the  first  words,  and  told  him  the  first  fairy 
tales,  and  the  sounds  of  the  water  and  the  wood  were 
intermingled,  so  that  the  child  learned  not  only  to  under- 
stand man's  speech,  but  also  that  of  Nature: 

"  At  the  door  on  summer  evenings 
Sat  the  little  Hiawatha ; 
Heard  the  whispering  of  the  pine-trees, 
Heard  the  lapping  of  the  water, 
Sounds  of  music,  words  of  wonder: 
'  Minne-wawa!  '  ^*  said  the  pine-trees, 
'  Mudway-aushka!  '  ^^  said  the  water." 


36o       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Hiawatha  hears  human  speech  in  the  sounds  of  Na- 
ture; thus  he  understands  Nature's  speech.  The  wind 
says,  "  Wawa."  The  cry  of  the  wild  goose  is  "  Wawa." 
Wah-wah-taysee  means  the  small  glowworm  which  en- 
chants him.  Thus  the  poet  paints  most  beautifully  the 
gradual  gathering  of  external  nature  into  the  compass  of 
the  subjective/^  and  the  intimate  connection  of  the  pri- 
mary object  to  which  the  first  lisping  words  were  applied, 
and  from  which  the  first  sounds  were  derived,  with  the 
secondary  object,  the  wider  nature  which  usurps  imper- 
ceptibly the  mother's  place,  and  takes  possession  of  those 
sounds  heard  first  from  the  mother,  and  also  of  those 
feelings  which  we  all  discover  later  in  ourselves  in  all 
the  warm  love  of  Mother  Nature.  The  later  blending, 
whether  pantheistic-philosophic  or  aesthetic,  of  the  senti- 
mental, cultured  man  with  nature  is,  loolced  at  retrospec- 
tively, a  reblending  with  the  mother,  who  was  our  primary 
object,  and  with  whom  we  truly  were  once  wholly  one." 
Therefore,  it  is  not  astonishing  when  we  again  see 
emerging  in  the  poetical  speech  of  a  modern  philosopher, 
Karl  Joel,  the  old  pictures  which  symbolize  the  unity  with 
the  mother,  illustrated  by  the  confluence  of  subject  and 
object.  In  his  recent  book,  "  Seele  und  Welt"  (1912), 
Joel  writes  as  follows,  in  the  chapter  called  "  Primal  Ex- 
perience "  ^®: 

"  I  lay  on  the  seashore,  the  shining  waters  ghttering  in  my 
dreamy  eyes;  at  a  great  distance  fluttered  the  soft  breeze;  throb- 
bing, shimmering,  stirring,  lulling  to  sleep  comes  the  wave  beat  to 
the  shore — or  to  the  ear?  I  know  not.  Distance  and  nearness 
become  blurred   into  one;   without   and   within   glide   into   each 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  361 

other.  Nearer  and  nearer,  dearer  and  more  homelike  sounds  the 
beating  of  the  waves;  now,  like  a  thundering  pulse  in  my  head  it 
strikes,  and  now  it  beats  over  my  soul,  devours  it,  embraces  it, 
while  it  itself  at  the  same  time  floats  out  like  the  blue  waste  of 
waters.  Yes,  without  and  within  are  one.  Glistening  and  foam- 
ing, flowing  and  fanning  and  roaring,  the  entire  symphony  of  the 
stimuli  experienced  sounds  in  one  tone,  all  thought  becomes  one 
thought,  which  becomes  one  with  feeling;  the  world  exhales  in 
the  soul  and  the  soul  dissolves  in  the  world.  Our  small  life  is 
encircled  by  a  great  sleep — the  sleep  of  our  cradle,  the  sleep  of  our 
grave,  the  sleep  of  our  home,  from  which  we  go  forth  in  the  morn- 
ing, to  which  we  again  return  in  the  evening;  our  life  but  the 
short  journey,  the  interval  between  the  emergence  from  the  orig- 
inal oneness  and  the  sinking  back  into  it!  Blue  shimmers  the 
infinite  sea,  wherein  dreams  the  jelly  fish  of  the  primitive  life, 
toward  which  without  ceasing  our  thoughts  hark  back  dimly 
through  eons  of  existence.  For  every  happening  entails  a  change 
and  a  guarantee  of  the  unity  of  life.  At  that  moment  when  they 
are  no  longer  blended  together,  in  that  instant  man  lifts  his  head, 
blind  and  dripping,  from  the  depths  of  the  stream  of  experience, 
from  the  oneness  with  the  experience;  at  that  moment  of  parting 
when  the  unity  of  life  in  startled  surprise  detaches  the  Change 
and  holds  it  away  from  itself  as  something  alien,  at  this  moment 
of  alienation  the  aspects  of  the  experience  have  been  substantial- 
ized into  subject  and  object,  and  in  that  moment  consciousness  is 
born." 

Joel  paints  here,  in  unmistakable  symbolism,  the  con- 
fluence of  subject  and  object  as  the  reunion  of  mother 
and  child.  The  symbols  agree  with  those  of  mythology, 
even  in  their  details.  The  encircling  and  devouring  mo- 
tive Is  distinctly  suggested.  The  sea,  devouring  the  sun 
and  giving  birth  to  It  anew,  Is  already  an  old  acquaint- 
ance. The  moment  of  the  rise  of  consciousness,  the  sepa- 
ration of  subject  and  object  Is  a  birth;  truly  philosophical 


362       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

thought  hangs  with  lame  wings  upon  the  few  great  primi- 
tive pictures  of  human  speech,  above  the  simple,  all-sur- 
passing greatness  of  which  no  thought  can  rise.  The  idea 
of  the  jelly  fish  is  not  "  accidental."  Once  when  I  was 
explaining  to  a  patient  the  maternal  significance  of  water 
at  this  contact  with  the  mother  complex,  she  experienced 
a  very  unpleasant  feeling.  "  It  makes  me  squirm,"  she 
said,  "  as  if  I  touched  a  jelly  fish."  Here,  too,  the  same 
idea !  The  blessed  state  of  sleep  before  birth  and  after 
death  is,  as  Joel  observed,  something  like  old  shadowy 
memories  of  that  unsuspecting,  thoughtless  state  of  early 
childhood,  where  as  yet  no  opposition  disturbed  the  peace- 
ful flow  of  dawning  life,  to  which  the  inner  longing 
always  draws  us  back  again  and  again,  and  from  which 
the  active  life  must  free  itself  anew  with  struggle  and 
death,  so  that  it  may  not  be  doomed  to  destruction.  Long 
before  Joel,  an  Indian  chieftain  had  said  the  same  thing 
in  similar  words  to  one  of  the  restless  wise  men: 

"  Ah,  my  brother,  you  will  never  learn  to  know  the  happiness 
of  thinking  nothing  and  doing  nothing:  this  is  next  to  sleep;  this 
is  the  most  delightful  thing  there  is.  Thus  we  were  before  birth, 
thus  we  shall  be  after  death."  ^^ 

We  shall  see  in  Hiawatha's  later  fate  how  important 
his  early  impressions  are  in  his  choice  of  a  wife.  Hia- 
watha's first  deed  was  to  kill  a  roebuck  with  his  arrow: 

"  Dead  he  lay  there  in  the  forest, 
By  the  ford  across  the  river." 

This  is  typical  of  Hiawatha's  deeds.  Whatever  he 
kills,  for  the  most  part,  lies  next  to  or  in  the  water,  some- 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  363 

times  half  in  the  water  and  half  on  the  land.^"  It  seems 
that  this  must  well  be  so.  The  later  adventures  will 
teach  us  why  this  must  be  so.  The  buck  was  no  ordinary 
animal,  but  a  magic  one;  that  is  to  say,  one  with  an  addi- 
tional unconscious  significance.  Hiawatha  made  for  him- 
self gloves  and  moccasins  from  its  hide;  the  gloves  im- 
parted such  strength  to  his  arms  that  he  could  crumble 
rocks  to  dust,  and  the  moccasins  had  the  virtue  of  the 
seven-league  boots.  By  enwrapping  himself  in  the  buck's 
skin  he  really  became  a  giant.  This  motive,  together  with 
the  death  of  the  animal  at  the  ford,^^  in  the  water,  re- 
veals the  fact  that  the  parents  are  concerned,  whose 
gigantic  proportions  as  compared  with  the  child  are  of 
great  significance  in  the  unconscious.  The  "  toys  of 
giants  "  is  a  wish  inversion  of  the  infantile  phantasy. 
The  dream  of  an  eleven-year-old  girl  expresses  this : 

"  I  am  as  high  as  a  church  steeple;  then  a  policeman  comes.  I 
tell  him,  '  If  you  say  anything,  I  will  cut  off  your  head.  '  " 

The  "  policeman,"  as  the  analysis  brought  out,  re- 
ferred to  the  father,  whose  gigantic  size  was  over-com- 
pensated by  the  church  steeple.  In  Mexican  human  sacri- 
fices, the  gods  were  represented  by  criminals,  who  were 
slaughtered,  and  flayed,  and  the  Corybantes  then  clothed 
themselves  in  the  bloody  skins,  In  order  to  Illustrate  the 
resurrection  of  the  gods."  (The  snake's  casting  of  his 
skin  as  a  symbol  of  rejuvenation.) 

Hiawatha  has,  therefore,  conquered  his  parents,  pri- 
marily the  mother,  although  In  the  form  of  a  male  ani- 
mal (compare  the  bear  of  Mudjekeewls)  ;  and  from  that 


364       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

comes  his  giant's  strength.  He  has  taken  on  the  parent's 
skin  and  now  has  himself  become  a  great  man.  Now  he 
started  forth  to  his  first  great  battle  to  fight  with  the 
father  Mudjekeewis,  in  order  to  avenge  his  dead  mother 
Wenonah.  Naturally,  under  this  figure  of  speech  hides 
the  thought  that  he  slays  the  father,  in  order  to  take  pos- 
session of  the  mother.  Compare  the  battle  of  Gilgamesh 
with  the  giant  Chumbaba  and  the  ensuing  conquest  of 
Ishtar.  The  father,  in  the  psychologic  sense,  merely  rep- 
resents the  personification  of  the  incest  prohibition;  that 
is  to  say,  resistance,  which  defends  the  mother.  Instead 
of  the  father,  it  may  be  a  fearful  animal  (the  great  bear, 
the  snake,  the  dragon,  etc.)  which  must  be  fought  and 
overcome.  The  hero  is  a  hero  because  he  sees  in  every 
difficulty  of  life  resistance  to  the  forbidden  treasure,  and 
fights  that  resistance  with  the  complete  yearning  which 
strives  towards  the  treasure,  attainable  with  difficulty,  or 
unattainable,  the  yearning  which  paralyzes  and  kills  the 
ordinary  man. 

Hiawatha's  father  is  Mudjekeewis,  the  west  wind;  the 
battle,  therefore,  takes  place  in  the  west.  Thence  came 
life  (impregnation  of  Wenonah)  ;  thence  also  came 
death  (death  of  Wenonah).  Hiawatha,  therefore, 
fights  the  typical  battle  of  the  hero  for  rebirth  in  the 
western  sea,  the  battle  with  the  devouring  terrible 
mother,  this  time  in  the  form  of  the  father.  Mudje- 
keewis, who  himself  had  acquired  a  divine  nature,  through 
his  conquest  of  the  bear,  now  is  overpowered  by  his  son: 

"  Back  retreated  Mudjekeewis, 
Rushing  westward  o'er  the  mountains, 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  365 

Stumbling  westward  down  the  mountains, 

Three  whole  dajs  retreated  fighting, 

Still  pursued  bj^  Hiawatha 

To  the  doorways  of  the  West- Wind, 

To  the  portals  of  the  Sunset, 

To  the  earth's  remotest  border. 

Where  into  the  empty  spaces 

Sinks  the  sun,  as  a  flamingo 

Drops  into  her  nest  at  nightfall." 

The  "  three  days  "  are  a  stereotyped  form  represent- 
ing the  stay  in  the  sea  prison  of  night.  (Twenty-first 
until  twenty- fourth  of  December.)  Christ,  too,  remained 
three  days  in  the  underworld.  "  The  treasure,  difficult 
to  attain,"  is  captured  by  the  hero  during  this  struggle 
in  the  west.  In  this  case  the  father  must  make  a  great 
concession  to  the  son;  he  gives  him  divine  nature,-^  that 
very  wind  nature,  the  immortality  of  which  alone  pro- 
tected Mudjekeewis  from  death.     He  says  to  his  son: 

"  I  will  share  my  kingdom  with  you. 
Ruler  shall  you  be  henceforward. 
Of  the  Northwest-Wind,  Keewaydin, 
Of  the  home-wind,  the  Keewaydin." 

That  Hiawatha  now  becomes  ruler  of  the  home-wind 
has  its  close  parallel  in  the  Gilgamesh  epic,  where  Gilga- 
mesh  finally  receives  the  magic  herb  from  the  wise  old 
Utnapishtim,  who  dwells  in  the  West,  which  brings  him 
safe  once  more  over  the  sea  to  his  home;  but  this,  when 
he  is  home  again,  is  retaken  from  him  by  a  serpent. 

When  one  has  slain  the  father,  one  can  obtain  posses- 
sion of  his  wife,  and  when  one  has  conquered  the  mother, 
one  can  free  one's  self. 


366       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

On  the  return  journey  Hiawatha  stops  at  the  clever 
arrow-maker's,  who  possesses  a  lovely  daughter : 

"  And  he  named  her  from  the  river, 
From  the  water-fall  he  named  her, 
Minnehaha,  Laughing  Water." 

When  Hiawatha,  in  his  earliest  childhood  dreaming, 
felt  the  sounds  of  water  and  wind  press  upon  his  ears, 
he  recognized  in  these  sounds  of  nature  the  speech  of  his 
mother.  The  murmuring  pine  trees  on  the  shore  of  the 
great  sea,  said  "  MInnewawa."  And  above  the  murmur- 
ing of  the  winds  and  the  splashing  of  the  water  he  found 
his  earliest  childhood  dreams  once  again  in  a  woman, 
"  Minnehaha,"  the  laughing  water.  And  the  hero,  be- 
fore all  others,  finds  In  woman  the  mother.  In  order  to 
become  a  child  again,  and,  finally,  to  solve  the  riddle  of 
immortality. 

The  fact  that  Minnehaha's  father  is  a  skilful  arrow- 
maker  betrays  him  as  the  father  of  the  hero  (and  the 
woman  he  had  with  him  as  the  mother).  The  father  of 
the  hero  Is  very  often  a  skilful  carpenter,  or  other 
artisan.  According  to  an  Arabian  legend,  Tare,^*  Abra- 
ham's father,  was  a  skilful  master  workman,  who  could 
carve  arrows  from  any  wood;  that  Is  to  say,  in  the 
Arabian  form  of  speech,  he  was  a  procreator  of  splendid 
sons.'^  Moreover,  he  was  a  maker  of  Images  of  gods. 
Tvashtar,  Agnl's  father.  Is  the  maker  of  the  world,  a 
smith  and  carpenter,  the  discoverer  of  fire-boring.  Jo- 
seph, the  father  of  Jesus,  was  also  a  carpenter;  likewise 
Kinyras,  Adonis's  father,  who  Is  said  to  have  Invented 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  367 

the  hammer,  the  lever,  roofing  and  mining.  Hephaestus, 
the  father  of  Hermes,  is  an  artistic  master  workman  and 
sculptor.  In  fairy  tales,  the  father  of  the  hero  is  very 
modestly  the  traditional  wood-cutter.  These  conceptions 
were  also  alive  in  the  cult  of  Osiris.  There  the  divine 
image  was  carved  out  of  a  tree  trunk  and  then  placed 
within  the  hollow  of  the  tree.  (Frazer:  "Golden 
Bough,"  Part  IV.)  In  Rigveda,  the  world  was  also  hewn 
out  of  a  tree  by  the  world-sculptor.  The  idea  that  the 
hero  is  his  own  procreator  -"  leads  to  the  fact  that  he  is 
invested  with  paternal  attributes,  and  reversedly  the  he- 
roic attributes  are  given  to  the  father.  In  Mani  there 
exists  a  beautiful  union  of  the  motives.  He  accomplishes 
his  great  labors  as  a  religious  founder,  hides  himself  for 
years  in  a  cave,  he  dies,  is  skinned,  stuffed  and  hung  up 
(hero).  Besides  he  is  an  artist,  and  has  a  crippled  foot. 
A  similar  union  of  motives  is  found  in  Wieland,  the 
smith. 

Hiawatha  kept  silent  about  what  he  saw  at  the  old 
arrow-maker's  on  his  return  to  Nokomis,  and  he  did 
nothing  further  to  win  Minnehaha.  But  now  something 
happened,  which,  if  it  were  not  in  an  Indian  epic,  would 
rather  be  sought  in  the  history  of  a  neurosis.  Hiawatha 
introverted  his  libido;  that  is  to  say,  he  fell  Into  an  ex- 
treme resistance  against  the  "  real  sexual  demand " 
(Freud)  ;  he  built  a  hut  for  himself  in  the  wood,  in  order 
to  fast  there  and  to  experience  dreams  and  visions.  For 
the  first  three  days  he  Vv^andered,  as  once  in  his  earliest 
youth,  through  a  forest  and  looked  at  all  the  animals 
and  plants: 


368        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

"  *  Master  of  life!  '  he  cried,  desponding, 
*  Must  our  lives  depend  on  these  things?  '  " 

The  question  whether  our  lives  must  depend  upon 
"  these  things  "  is  very  strange.  It  sounds  as  if  life  were 
derived  from  these  things;  that  is  to  say,  from  nature 
in  general.  Nature  seems  suddenly  to  have  assumed  a 
very  strange  significance.  This  phenomenon  can  be  ex- 
plained only  through  the  fact  that  a  great  amount  of 
libido  was  stored  up  and  now  is  given  to  nature.  As  is 
well  known,  men  of  even  dull  and  prosy  minds,  in  the 
springtime  of  love,  suddenly  become  aware  of  nature, 
and  even  make  poems  about  it.  But  we  know  that  libido, 
prevented  from  an  actual  way  of  transference,  always  re- 
verts to  an  earlier  way  of  transference.  Minnehaha,  the 
laughing  water,  is  so  clearly  an  allusion  to  the  mother 
that  the  secret  yearning  of  the  hero  for  the  mother  is 
powerfully  touched.  Therefore,  without  having  under- 
taken anything,  he  goes  home  to  Nokomis;  but  there  again 
he  is  driven  away,  because  Minnehaha  already  stands  in 
his  path. 

He  turns,  therefore,  even  further  away,  into  that  early 
youthful  period,  the  tones  of  which  recall  Minnehaha 
most  forcibly  to  his  thoughts,  where  he  learnt  to  hear 
the  mother-sounds  in  the  sounds  of  nature.  In  this  very 
strange  revival  of  the  impressions  of  nature  we  recognize 
a  regression  to  those  earliest  and  strongest  nature  im- 
pressions which  stand  next  to  the  subsequently  extin- 
guished, even  stronger,  impressions  which  the  child  re- 
ceived from  the  mother.  The  glamour  of  this  feeling  for 
her  is  transferred  to  other  objects  of  the  childish  environ- 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  369 

ment  (father's  house,  playthings,  etc.),  from  which  later 
those  magic  blissful  feelings  proceed,  which  seem  to  be 
peculiar  to  the  earliest  childish  memories.  When,  there- 
fore, Hiawatha  hides  himself  in  the  lap  of  nature,  it  is 
really  the  mother's  womb,  and  it  is  to  be  expected  that  he 
will  emerge  again  new-born  in  some  form. 

Before  turning  to  this  new  creation  arising  from  intro- 
version, there  is  still  a  further  significance  of  the  pre- 
ceding question  to  be  considered:  whether  life  is  de- 
pendent upon  "  these  things  "  ?  Life  may  depend  upon 
these  things  in  the  degree  that  they  serve  for  nourish- 
ment. We  must  infer  in  this  case  that  suddenly  the  ques- 
tion of  nutrition  came  very  near  the  hero's  heart.  (This 
possibility  will  be  thoroughly  proven  in  what  follows.) 
The  question  of  nutrition,  indeed,  enters  seriously  into 
consideration.  First,  because  regression  to  the  mother 
necessarily  revives  that  special  path  of  transference; 
namely,  that  of  nutrition  through  the  mother.  As  soon 
as  the  libido  regresses  to  the  presexual  stage,  there  we 
may  expect  to  see  the  function  of  nutrition  and  its  sym- 
bols put  in  place  of  the  sexual  function.  Thence  is  de- 
rived an  essential  root  of  the  displacement  from  below 
upwards  (Freud),  because,  in  the  presexual  stage,  the 
principal  value  belongs  not  to  the  genitals,  but  to 
the  mouth.  Secondly,  because  the  hero  fasted,  his 
hunger  becomes  predominant.  Fasting,  as  is  well  known, 
is  employed  to  silence  sexuality;  also,  it  expresses  sym- 
bolically the  resistance  against  sexuality,  translated  into 
the  language  of  the  presexual  stage.  On  the  fourth  day 
of  his  fast  the  hero  ceased  to  address  himself  to  nature; 


370        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

he  lay  exhausted,  with  half-closed  eyes,  upon  his  couch, 
sunk  deep  in  dreams,  the  picture  of  extreme  introversion. 
We  have  already  seen  that,  in  such  circumstances,  an 
infantile  internal  equivalent  for  reality  appears,  in  the 
place  of  external  life  and  reality.  This  is  also  the  case 
with  Hiawatha: 

"  And  he  saw  a  youth  approaching, 
Dressed  in  garments  green  and  yellow, 
Coming  through  the  purple  twilight, 
Through  the  splendor  of  the  sunset ; 
Plumes-  of  green  bent  o'er  his  forehead, 
And  his  hair  was  soft  and  golden." 

This  remarkable  apparition  reveals  himself  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner  to  Hiawatha : 

"  From  the  Master  of  Life  descending, 
I,  the  friend  of  man,  Mondamin, 
Come  to  warn  you  and  instruct  you, 
How  by  struggle  and  by  labor 
You  shall  gain  what  you  have  prayed  for. 
Rise  up  from  your  bed  of  branches; 
Rise,  O  youth,  and  wrestle  with  me !  " 

Mondamin  is  the  maize :  a  god,  who  is  eaten,  arising 
from  Hiawatha's  introversion.  His  hunger,  taken  in  a 
double  sense,  his  longing  for  the  nourishing  mother,  gives 
birth  from  his  soul  to  another  hero,  the  edible  maize,  the 
son  of  the  earth  mother.  Therefore,  he  again  arises  at 
sunset,  symbolizing  the  entrance  into  the  mother,  and  in 
the  western  sunset  glow  he  begins  again  the  mystic  strug- 
gle with  the  self-created  god,  the  god  who  has  originated 
entirely   from   the   longing   for   the   nourishing  mother. 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  37 1 

The  struggle  Is  again  the  struggle  for  liberation  from  this 
destructive  and  yet  productive  longing.  Mondamin  is, 
therefore,  equivalent  to  the  mother,  and  the  struggle  with 
him  means  the  overpowering  and  impregnation  of  the 
mother.  This  interpretation  is  entirely  proven  by  a 
myth  of  the  Cherokees,  "who  invoke  it  (the  maize) 
under  the  name  of  '  The  Old  Woman,'  in  allusion  to  a 
myth  that  it  sprang  from  the  blood  of  an  old  woman 
killed  by  her  disobedient  sons  '  " :  " 

"  Faint  with  famine,  Hiawatha 
Started  from  his  bed  of  branches, 
From  the  twilight  of  his  wigwam 
Forth  into  the  flush  of  sunset 
Came,  and  wrestled  with  Mondamin; 
At  his  touch  he  felt  new  courage 
Throbbing  in  his  brain  and  bosom, 
Felt  new  life  and  hope  and  vigor 
Run  through  every  nerve  and  fibre." 

The  battle  at  sunset  with  the  god  of  the  maize  gives 
Hiawatha  new  strength;  and  thus  it  must  be,  because  the 
fight  for  the  individual  depths,  against  the  paralyzing 
longing  for  the  mother,  gives  creative  strength  to  men. 
Here,  indeed,  is  the  source  of  all  creation,  but  it  demands 
heroic  courage  to  fight  against  these  forces  and  to  wrest 
from  them  the  "  treasure  difficult  to  attain."  He  who 
succeeds  in  this  has,  in  truth,  attained  the  best.  Hiawatha 
wrestles  with  himself  for  his  creation.^^  The  struggle 
lasts  again  the  charmed  three  days.  The  fourth  day,  just 
as  Mondamin  prophesied,  Hiawatha  conquers  him,  and 
Mondamin  sinks  to  the  orround  in  death.    As  Mondamin 


372        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

previously  desired,  Hiawatha  digs  his  grave  in  mother 
earth,  and  soon  afterwards  from  this  grave  the  young 
and  fresh  maize  grows  for  the  nourishment  of  mankind. 
Concerning  the  thought  of  this  fragment,  we  have 
therein  a  beautiful  parallel  to  the  mystery  of  Mithra, 
where  first  the  battle  of  the  hero  with  his  bull  occurs. 
Afterwards  Mithra  carries  in  "  transitus  "  the  bull  into 
the  cave,  where  he  kills  him.  From  this  death  all  fer- 
tility grows,  all  that  is  edible."''  The  cave  corresponds 
to  the  grave.  The  same  idea  is  represented  in  the  Chris- 
tian mysteries,  although  generally  in  more  beautiful 
human  forms.  The  soul  struggle  of  Christ  in  Geth- 
semane,  where  he  struggles  with  himself  in  order  to  com- 
plete his  work,  then  the  "  transitus,"  the  carrying  of  the 
cross, ^°  where  he  takes  upon  himself  the  symbol  of  the 
destructive  mother,  and  therewith  takes  himself  to  the 
sacrificial  grave,  from  which,  after  three  days,  he  tri- 
umphantly arises;  all  these  ideas  express  the  same  funda- 
mental thoughts.  Also,  the  symbol  of  eating  is  not  lack- 
ing in  the  Christian  mystery.  Christ  is  a  god  who  is  eaten 
in  the  Lord's  Supper.  His  death  transforms  him  into 
bread  and  wine,  which  we  partake  of  in  grateful  memory 
of  his  great  deed.^^  The  relation  of  Agni  to  the  Soma- 
drink  and  that  of  Dionysus  to  wine  ^^  must  not  be  omitted 
here.  An  evident  parallel  is  Samson's  rending  of  the 
lion,  and  the  subsequent  inhabitation  of  the  dead  lion  by 
honey  bees,  which  gives  rise  to  the  well-known  German 
riddle : 

"  Speise  ging  von  dem  Fresser  und  Siissigkeit  von  dem  Starken 
(Food  went  from  the  glutton  and  sweet  from  the  strong)."  ^^ 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  373 

In  the  Eleusinian  mysteries  these  thoughts  seem  to 
have  played  a  role.  Besides  Demeter  and  Persephone, 
lakchos  is  a  chief  god  of  the  Eleusinian  cult;  he  was  the 
"  puer  asternus,"  the  eternal  boy,  of  whom  Ovid  says  the 
following: 

"  Tu  puer  Eeternus,  tu  formosissimus  alto 
Conspiceris  cceIo  tibi,  cum  sine  cornibus  astas, 
Virgineum  caput  est,"  etc.* 

In  the  great  Eleusinian  festival  procession  the  image 
of  lakchos  was  carried.  It  is  not  easy  to  say  which  god 
is  lakchos,  possibly  a  boy,  or  a  new-born  son,  similar  to 
the  Etrurian  Tages,  who  bears  the  surname  "  the  freshly 
ploughed  boy,"  because,  according  to  the  myth,  he  arose 
from  the  furrow  of  the  field  behind  the  peasant,  who  was 
ploughing.  This  idea  shows  unmistakably  the  Mondamin 
motive.  The  plough  is  of  well-known  phallic  meaning; 
the  furrow  of  the  field  is  personified  by  the  Hindoos  as 
woman.  The  psychology  of  this  idea  is  that  of  a  coitus, 
referred  back  to  the  presexual  stage  (stage  of  nutri- 
tion). The  son  is  the  edible  fruit  of  the  field.  lakchos 
passes,  in  part,  as  son  of  Demeter  or  of  Persephone, 
also  appropriately  as  consort  of  Demeter.  (Hero  as  pro- 
creator  of  himself.)  He  is  also  called  tt/s"  ^r/ixrjrpo? 
SaipiGJv  [Aaifjioov  equals  libido,  also  Mother  libido.)  He 
was  Identified  with  Dionysus,  especially  with  the  Thraclan 
DIonysus-Zagreus,  of  whom  a  typical  fate  of  rebirth  was 
related.     Hera  had  goaded  the  Titans  against  Zagreus, 

*  Thou  boy  eternal,  thou  most  beautiful  one  seen  in  the  heavens,  with- 
out horns  standing,  with  thy  virgin  head,  etc. 


374       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

who,  assuming  many  forms,  sought  to  escape  them,  until 
they  finally  took  him  when  he  had  taken  on  the  form  of  a 
bull.  In  this  form  he  was  killed  (Mithra  sacrifice)  and 
dismembered,  and  the  pieces  were  thrown  into  a  caul- 
dron; but  Zeus  killed  the  Titans  by  lightning,  and  swal- 
lowed the  still-throbbing  heart  of  Zagreus.  Through  this 
act  he  gave  him  existence  once  more,  and  Zagreus  as 
lakchos  again  came  forth. 

lakchos  carries  the  torch,  the  phallic  symbol  of  procrea- 
tion, as  Plato  testifies.  In  the  festival  procession,  the 
sheaf  of  corn,  the  cradle  of  lakchos,  was  carried. 
(Xhivov,  mystica  vannus  lacchi.)  The  Orphic  legend^* 
relates  that  lakchos  was  brought  up  by  Persephone,  when, 
after  three  years'  slumber  in  the  Xihvov,*  he  awoke.  This 
statement  distinctly  suggests  the  Mondamin  motive.  The 
20th  of  Boedromion  (the  month  Boedromion  lasts  from 
about  the  5th  of  September  to  the  5th  of  October)  is 
called  lakchos,  in  honor  of  the  hero.  On  the  evening 
of  this  day  the  great  torchlight  procession  took  place  on 
the  seashore,  in  which  the  quest  and  lament  of  Demeter 
was  represented.  The  role  of  Demeter,  who,  seeking 
her  daughter,  wanders  over  the  whole  earth  without  food 
or  drink,  has  been  taken  over  by  Hiawatha  in  the  Indian 
epic.  He  turns  to  all  created  things  without  obtaining  an 
answer.  As  Demeter  first  learns  of  her  daughter  from 
the  subterranean  Hecate,  so  does  Hiawatha  first  find  the 
one  sought  for,  Mondamin,^'  in  the  deepest  introversion 
(descent  to  the  mother).  Hiawatha  produces  from  him- 
self, Mondamin,  as  a  mother  produces  the  son.     The 

*  A  winnowing  fan  used  as  cradle. 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  375 

longing  for  the  mother  also  nicludes  the  producing 
mother  (first  devouring,  then  birth-giving).  Concern- 
ing the  real  contents  of  the  mysteries,  we  learn  through 
the  testimony  of  Bishop  Asterius,  about  390  A.D.,  the 
following : 

"  Is  not  there  (in  Eleusis)  the  gloomiest  descent,  and  the  most 
solemn  communion  of  the  hierophant  and  the  priestess;  between 
him  and  her  alone?  Are  the  torches  not  extinguished,  and  does 
not  the  vast  multitude  regard  as  their  salvation  that  which  takes 
place  between  the  two  in  the  darkness? 

That  points  undoubtedly  to  a  ritual  marriage,  which  was 
celebrated  subterraneously  in  mother  earth.  The  Priest- 
ess of  Demeter  seems  to  be  the  representative  of  the  earth 
goddess,  perhaps  the  furrow  of  the  field."  The  descent 
into  the  earth  is  also  the  symbol  of  the  mother's  womb, 
and  was  a  widespread  conception  under  the  form  of 
cave  worship.  Plutarch  relates  of  the  Magi  that  they 
sacrificed  to  Ahriman,  ei?  tottov  dvrfXiov.^  Lukian  lets 
the  magician  Mithrobarzanes  ei?  x^P^'^'^  i'prjfxov  nai 
vXwdei  uai  avt^Xior,\  descend  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth. 
According  to  the  testimony  of  Moses  of  the  Koran,  the 
sister  Fire  and  the  brother  Spring  were  worshipped  in 
Armenia  in  a  cave.  Julian  gave  an  account  from  the 
Attis  legend  of  a  HaTa/Saffi?  eh  avrpov^\  from  whence 
Cybele  brings  up  her  son  lover,  that  is  to  say,  gives  birth 
to  him.^*  The  cave  of  Christ's  birth,  in  Bethlehem 
('House  of  Bread'),  is  said  to  have  been  an  Attis 
spelaeum. 

*  In  a  sunless  place. 

t  Descend   into   a   sunless  desert  place. 

t  Descent  into  a  cave. 


376        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

A  further  Eleusinian  symbolism  is  found  in  the  festival 
of  Hierosgamos,  in  the  form  of  the  mystic  chests,  which, 
according  to  the  testimony  of  Clemens  of  Alexandria, 
may  have  contained  pastry,  salt  and  fruits.  The  synthema 
(confession)  of  the  mystic  transmitted  by  Clemens  is  sug- 
gestive in  still  other  directions : 

"  I  have  fasted,  I  have  drunk  of  the  barleydrink,  I  have  taken 
from  the  chest  and  after  I  have  labored,  I  have  placed  it  back  in 
the  basket,  and  from  the  basket  into  the  chest." 

The  question  as  to  what  lay  in  the  chest  is  explained 
in  detail  by  Dieterich.^^  The  labor  he  considers  a  phallic 
activity,  which  the  mystic  has  to  perform.  In  fact,  rep- 
resentations of  the  mystic  basket  are  given,  wherein  lies 
a  phallus  surrounded  by  fruits.^"  Upon  the  so-called 
Lovatelli  tomb  vase,  the  sculptures  of  which  are  under- 
stood to  be  Eleusinian  ceremonies,  it  is  shown  how  a 
mystic  caressed  the  serpent  entwining  Demeter.  The 
caressing  of  the  fear  animal  indicates  a  religious  conquer- 
ing of  incest.*^  According  to  the  testimony  of  Clemens  of 
Alexandria,  a  serpent  was  in  the  chest.  The  serpent  in 
this  connection  is  naturally  of  phallic  nature,  the  phallus 
which  is  forbidden  in  relation  to  the  mother.  Rohde 
mentions  that  in  the  Arrhetophories,  pastry,  in  the  form 
of  phalli  and  serpents,  were  thrown  into  the  cave  near 
the  Thesmophorion.  This  custom  was  a  petition  for  the 
bestowal  of  children  and  harvest.*^  The  snake  also  plays 
a  large  part  in  initiations  under  the  remarkable  title 
o  dia  HoXnov  6e6?.  *   Clemens  observes   that  the   symbol 

*  He  who  achieved  divinity  through  the  womb. 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  377 

of  the  Sabazios  mysteries  Is  6  did  koXtcoov  Oeo?,  dpocuoDv 
6e  iffTi  Hal   ovto?  SisXHopievo?  tov  hoXtiov  tcov  reXovjui- 

Through  Arnobius  we  learn: 

"  Aureus  coluber  in  sinum  demittitur  consecratis  et  eximitur 
rursus  ab  inferioribus  partibus  atque  imis."  f 

In  the  Orphic  Hymn  52,  Bacchus  is  invoked  by 
VTroHoXTtie^X  which  indicates  that  the  god  enters  into 
man  as  if  through  the  female  genitals."  According  to 
the  testimony  of  Hippolytus,  the  hierophant  in  the  mys- 
tery exclaimed  ispov  i'tSKe  norvta  Hovpov,  Bpi/xco  fipi/j.6v 
(the  revered  one  has  brought  forth  a  holy  boy,  Brimos 
from  Brimo).  This  Christmas  gospel,  "Unto  us  a  son 
is  born,"  is  illustrated  especially  through  the  tradition  ** 
that  the  Athenians  "  secretly  show  to  the  partakers  in 
the  Epoptia,  the  great  and  wonderful  and  most  perfect 
Epoptic  mystery,  a  mown  stalk  of  wheat."  *^ 

The  parallel  for  the  motive  of  death  and  resurrection 
is  the  motive  of  losing  and  finding.  The  motive  appears 
in  religious  rites  in  exactly  the  same  connection,  namely, 
in  spring  festivities  similar  to  the  Hierosgamos,  where 
the  image  of  the  god  was  hidden  and  found  again.  It  is 
an  uncanonical  tradition  that  Moses  left  his  father's 
house  when  twelve  years  old  to  teach  mankind.  In  a 
similar  manner  Christ  is  lost  by  his  parents,  and  they 
find  him  again  as  a  teacher  of  wisdom,  just  as  in  the  Mo- 

*  He  who  achieved  divinity  through  the  womb;  he  is  a  serpent,  and  he 
was  drawn  through  the  womb  of  those  who  were  being  initiated. 

t  The  golden  serpent  is  crowded  into  the  breast  of  the  initiates  and  is 
then  drawn  out  through  the  lowest  parts. 

:{:  O  Foetus,  he  who  is  in  the  vagina  or  womb. 


378       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

hammedan  legend  Moses  and  Joshua  lose  the  fish,  and 
in  his  place  Chidher,  the  teacher  of  wisdom,  appears 
(like  the  boy  Jesus  in  the  temple)  ;  so  does  the  corn  god, 
lost  and  believed  to  be  dead,  suddenly  arise  again  from 
his  mother  into  renewed  youth.  (That  Christ  was  laid 
in  the  manger  is  suggestive  of  fodder.  Robertson,  there- 
fore, places  the  manger  as  parallel  to  the  liknon.) 

We  understand  from  these  accounts  why  the  Eleusin- 
ian  mysteries  were  for  the  mystic  so  rich  in  comfort  for 
the  hope  of  a  better  world.  A  beautiful  Eleusinian  epi- 
taph shows  this : 

"  Truly,  a  beautiful  secret  is  proclaimed  by  the  blessed  Gods! 
Mortality  is  not  a  curse,  but  death  a  blessing!  " 

The  hymn  to  Demeter  ^^  in  the  mysteries  also  says  the 
same: 

"  Blessed  is  he,  the  earth-born  man,  who  hath  seen  this! 
Who  hath  not  shared  in  these  divine  ceremonies, 
He  hath  an  unequal  fate  in  the  obscure  darkness  of  death." 

Immortality  is  inherent  in  the  Eleusinian  symbol;  in  a 
church  song  of  the  nineteenth  century  by  Samuel  Preis- 
werk  we  discover  it  again : 

"  The  world  is  yours,  Lord  Jesus, 
The  world,  on  which  we  stand, 
Because  it  is  thy  world 
It  cannot  perish. 
Only  the  wheat,  before  it  comes 
Up  to  the  light  in  its  fertility, 
Must  die  in  the  bosom  of  the  earth 
First  freed  from  its  own  nature. 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  379 

"  Thou  goest,  O  Lord,  our  chief, 
To  heaven  through  thy  sorrows, 
And  guide  him  who  believes 
In  thee  on  the  same  path. 
Then  take  us  all  equally 
To  share  in  thy  sorrows  and  kingdoms, 
Guide  us  through  thy  gate  of  death, 
Bring  thy  world  into  the  light." 

FIrmicus  relates  concerning  the  Attis  mysteries: 

"  Nocte  quadam  simulacrum  in  lectica  supinum  ponltur  et  per 
numeros  digestis  fletibus  plangitur;  deinde  cum  se  ficta  lamenta- 
tione  satiaverint,  lumen  infertur :  tunc  a  sacerdote  omnium  qui 
flebant  fauces  unguentur,  quibus  perunctis  sacerdos  hoc  lento  mur- 
mure  SUSUrrat:  '  Qappelre /nvarai  tov  deov  aeauafiEvoveaTai  yap  y/ilv  in  ndvov 
cuTijpia.'  "  * 

Such  parallels  show  how  little  human  personality  and 
how  much  divine,  that  is  to  say,  universally  human,  is 
found  in  the  Christ  mystery.  No  man  is  or,  indeed,  ever 
was,  a  hero,  for  the  hero  is  a  god,  and,  therefore,  im- 
personal and  generally  applicable  to  all.  Christ  is  a 
"  spirit,"  as  is  shown  in  the  very  early  Christian  inter- 
pretation. In  different  places  of  the  earth,  and  in  the 
most  varied  forms  and  in  the  coloring  of  various  periods, 
the  Savior-hero  appears  as  a  fruit  of  the  entrance  of  the 
libido  into  the  personal  maternal  depths.  The  Bacchian 
consecrations  represented  upon  the  Farnese  relief  contain 

*  On  a  certain  night  an  image  is  placed  lying  down  in  a  litter;  there 
is  ■weeping  and  lamentations  among  the  people,  with  beatings  of  bodies 
and  tears.  After  a  time,  when  they  have  become  exhausted  from  the 
lamentations,  a  light  appears;  then  the  priest  anoints  the  throats  of  all 
those  who  were  weeping,  and  softly  whispers,  "  Take  courage,  O  initiates 
of  the  Redeemed  Divinity;  you  shall  achieve  salvation  through  your 
grief." 


38o       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

a  scene  where  a  mystic  wrapped  in  a  mantle,  drawn  over 
his  head,  was  led  to  Silen,  who  holds  the  ^'Xxxyov^^ 
(chalice),  covered  with  a  cloth.  The  covering  of  the 
head  signifies  death.  The  mystic  dies,  figuratively,  like 
the  seed  corn,  grows  again  and  comes  to  the  corn  har- 
vest.  Proclus  relates  that  the  mystics  were  buried  up  to 
their  necks.  The  Christian  church  as  a  place  of  religious 
ceremony  is  really  nothing  but  the  grave  of  a  hero  (cata- 
combs). The  believer  descends  into  the  grave,  in  order 
to  rise  from  the  dead  with  the  hero.  That  the  meaning 
underlying  the  church  is  that  of  the  mother's  womb  can 
scarcely  be  doubted.  The  symbols  of  Mass  are  so  dis- 
tinct that  the  mythology  of  the  sacred  act  peeps  out 
everywhere.  It  is  the  magic  charm  of  rebirth.  The  ven- 
eration of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  is  most  plain  in  this  re- 
spect. A  striking  example  is  the  Holy  Sepulchre  of  St. 
Stefano  in  Bologna.  The  church  itself,  a  very  old  polyg- 
onal building,  consists  of  the  remains  of  a  temple  to  Isis. 
The  interior  contains  an  artificial  spelaeum,  a  so-called 
Holy  Sepulchre,  into  which  one  creeps  through  a  very 
little  door.  After  a  long  sojourn,  the  believer  reappears 
reborn  from  this  mother's  womb.  An  Etruscan  ossuarium 
in  the  archaeological  museum  in  Florence  is  at  the  same 
time  a  statue  of  Matuta,  the  goddess  of  death;  the  clay 
figure  of  the  goddess  is  hollowed  within  as  a  receptacle 
for  the  ashes.  The  representations  indicate  that  Matuta 
is  the  mother.  Her  chair  is  adorned  with  sphinxes,  as  a 
fitting  symbol  for  the  mother  of  death. 

Only  a  few  of  the  further  deeds  of  Hiawatha  can  in- 
terest us  here.     Among  these  is  the  battle  with  Mishe- 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  381 

Nahma,  the  fish-king,  in  the  eighth  song.  This  deserves 
to  be  mentioned  as  a  typical  battle  of  the  sun-hero. 
Mishe-Nahma  is  a  fish  monster,  who  dwells  at  the  bottom 
of  the  waters.  Challenged  by  Hiawatha  to  battle,  he  de- 
vours the  hero,  together  with  his  boat: 

"  In  his  wrath  he  darted  upward, 
Flashing  leaped  into  the  sunshine, 
Opened  his  great  jaws,  and  swallowed 
Both  canoe  and  Hiawatha. 

**  Down  into  that  darksome  cavern 
Plunged  the  headlong  Hiawatha, 
As  a  log  on  some  black  river 
Shoots  and  plunges  down  the  rapids, 
Found  himself  in  utter  darkness, 
Groped  about  in  helpless  wonder. 
Till  he  felt  a  great  heart  beating. 
Throbbing  in  that  utter  darkness. 
And  he  smote  it  in  his  anger. 
With  his  fist,  the  heart  of  Nahma, 
Felt  the  mighty  king  of  fishes 
Shudder  through  each  nerve  and  fibre. 

Crosswise  then  did  Hiawatha 
Drag  his  birch-canoe  for  safety. 
Lest  from  out  the  jaws  of  Nahma, 
In  the  turmoil  and  confusion, 
Forth  he  might  be  hurled,  and  perish." 

It  is  the  typical  myth  of  the  work  of  the  hero,  dis- 
tributed over  the  entire  world.  He  takes  to  a  boat,  fights 
with  the  sea  monster,  is  devoured,  he  defends  himself 
against  being  bitten  or  crushed*^  (resistance  or  stamp- 
ing motive)  ;  having  arrived  in  the  interior  of  the  "  whale 
dragon,"   he   seeks  the   vital  organ,   which  he   cuts  off 


382       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

or  in  some  way  destroys.  Often  the  death  of  the 
monster  occurs  as  the  result  of  a  fire  which  the  hero 
secretly  makes  within  him;  he  mysteriously  creates  in  the 
womb  of  death  Hfe,  the  rising  sun.  Thus  dies  the  fish, 
which  drifts  ashore,  where,  with  the  assistance  of 
"  birds,"  the  hero  again  attains  the  light  of  day.*^  The 
bird  in  this  sense  probably  means  the  reascent  of  the  sun, 
the  longing  of  the  libido,  the  rebirth  of  the  phoenix. 
(The  longing  is  very  frequently  represented  by  the  sym- 
bol of  hovering.)  The  sun  symbol  of  the  bird  rising  from 
the  water  is  (etymologically)  contained  in  the  singing 
swan.  "  Swan "  is  derived  from  the  root  sven,  like 
sun  and  tone.  (See  the  preceding.)  This  act  signifies 
rebirth,  and  the  bringing  forth  of  life  from  the  mother,^^ 
and  by  this  means  the  ultimate  destruction  of  death, 
which,  according  to  a  Negro  myth,  has  come  into  the 
world,  through  the  mistake  of  an  old  woman,  who,  at 
the  time  of  the  general  casting  of  skins  (for  men  re- 
newed their  youth  through  casting  their  skin  like 
snakes),  drew  on,  through  absent-mindedness,  her  old 
skin  instead  of  a  new  one,  and  as  a  result  died.  But  the 
effect  of  such  an  act  could  not  be  of  any  duration.  Again 
and  again  troubles  of  the  hero  are  renewed,  always  under 
the  symbol  of  deliverance  from  the  mother.  Just  as  Hera 
(as  the  pursuing  mother)  is  the  real  source  of  the  great 
deeds  of  Hercules,  so  does  Nokomis  allow  Hiawatha  no 
rest,  and  raises  up  new  difficulties  in  his  path,  in  form  of 
desperate  adventures  in  which  the  hero  may  perhaps  con- 
quer, but  also,  perhaps,  may  perish.  The  libido  of  man- 
kind is  always  in  advance  of  his  consciousness;  unless  his 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  383 

libido  calls  him  forth  to  new  dangers  he  sinks  into  sloth- 
ful inactivity  or,  on  the  other  hand,  childish  longing  for 
the  mother  overcomes  him  at  the  summit  of  his  existence, 
and  he  allows  himself  to  become  pitifully  weak,  instead 
of  striving  with  desperate  courage  towards  the  highest. 
The  mother  becomes  the  demon,  who  summons  the  hero 
to  adventure,  and  who  also  places  in  his  path  the  poison- 
ous serpent,  which  will  strike  him.  Thus  Nokomis,  in  the 
ninth  song,  calls  Hiawatha,  points  with  her  hand  to  the 
west,  where  the  sun  sets  in  purple  splendor,  and  says  to 
him: 

"  Yonder  dwells  the  great  Pearl-Feather, 
Megissogwon,  the  Magician, 
Manito  of  Wealth  and  Wampum, 
Guarded  by  his  fiery  serpents, 
Guarded  by  the  black  pitch-water. 
You  can  see  his  fiery  serpents. 
The  Kenabeek,  the  great  serpents. 
Coiling,  playing  in  the  water." 

This  danger  lurking  in  the  west  is  known  to  mean 
death,  which  no  one,  even  the  mightiest,  escapes.  This 
magician,  as  we  learn,  also  killed  the  father  of  Nokomis. 
Now  she  sends  her  son  forth  to  avenge  the  father 
(Horus).  Through  the  symbols  attributed  to  the  magi- 
cian it  may  easily  be  recognized  what  he  symbolizes. 
Snake  and  water  belong  to  the  mother,  the  snake  as  a 
symbol  of  the  repressed  longing  for  the  mother,  or,  in 
other  words,  as  a  symbol  of  resistance,  encircles  protect- 
ingly  and  defensively  the  maternal  rock,  inhabits  the  cave, 
winds  itself  upwards  around  the  mother  tree  and  guards 


384       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

the  precious  hoard,  the  "  mysterious "  treasure.  The 
black  Stygian  water  is,  like  the  black,  muddy  spring  of 
Dhulqarnein,  the  place  where  the  sun  dies  and  enters  into 
rebirth,  the  maternal  sea  of  death  and  night.  On  his 
journey  thither  Hiawatha  takes  with  him  the  magic  oil 
of  Mishe-Nahma,  which  helps  his  boat  through  the  waters 
of  death.  (Also  a  sort  of  charm  for  immortality,  like 
the  dragon's  blood  for  Siegfried,  etc.) 

First,  Hiawatha  slays  the  great  serpent.  Of  the 
"  night  journey  in  the  sea  "  over  the  Stygian  waters  it  is 
written : 

"  All  night  long  he  sailed  upon  it, 
Sailed  upon  that  sluggish  water, 
Covered  with  its  mould  of  ages, 
Black  with  rotting  water-rushes, 
Rank  with  flags,  and  leaves  of  lilies, 
Stagnant,  lifeless,  dreary,  dismal. 
Lighted  by  the  shimmering  moonlight 
And  by  will-o'-the-wisps  illumined, 
Fires  by  ghosts  of  dead  men  kindled. 
In  their  weary  night  encampments." 

The  description  plainly  shows  the  character  of  a  water 
of  death.  The  contents  of  the  water  point  to  an  already 
mentioned  motive,  that  of  encoiling  and  devouring.  It  is 
said  in  the  "  Key  to  Dreams  of  Jagaddeva  " :  ^° 

"  Whoever  in  dreams  surrounds  his  body  with  bast,  creepers  or 
ropes,  with  snake-skins,  threads,  or  tissues,  dies." 

I  refer  to  the  preceding  arguments  in  regard  to  this. 
Having  come  into  the  west  land,  the  hero  challenges  the 
magician  to  battle.     A  terrible   struggle   begins.     Hia- 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  385 

watha  Is  powerless,  because  Megissogwon  is  invulner- 
able. At  evening  Hiawatha  retires  wounded,  despairing 
for  a  while,  in  order  to  rest: 

"  Paused  to  rest  beneath  a  pine-tree, 
From  whose  branches  trailed  the  mosses, 
And  whose  trunk  was  coated  over 
With  the  Dead-man's  Moccasin-leather, 
With  the  fungus  white  and  yellow." 

This  protecting  tree  is  described  as  coated  over  with 
the  moccasin  leather  of  the  dead,  the  fungus.  This  in- 
vesting of  the  tree  with  anthromorphic  attributes  is  also 
an  important  rite  wherever  tree  worship  prevails,  as,  for 
example,  in  India,  where  each  village  has  its  sacred  tree, 
which  is  clothed  and  in  general  treated  as  a  human  being. 
The  trees  are  anointed  with  fragrant  waters,  sprinkled 
with  powder,  adorned  with  garlands  and  draperies.  Just 
as  among  men,  the  piercing  of  the  ears  was  performed 
as  an  apotropaic  charm  against  death,  so  does  it  occur 
with  the  holy  tree.  Of  all  the  trees  of  India  there  is  none 
more  sacred  to  the  Hindoos  than  the  Aswatha  (Ficus  re- 
ligiosa).  It  is  known  to  them  as  Vriksha  Raja  (king  of 
trees),  Brahma,  Vishnu  and  Mahesvar  live  in  it,  and  the 
worship  of  it  is  the  worship  of  the  triad.  Almost  every 
Indian  village  has  an  Aswatha, ^^  etc.  This  "  village 
linden  tree,"  well  known  to  us,  is  here  clearly  character- 
ized as  the  mother  symbol;  it  contains  the  three  gods. 

Hence,  when  Hiawatha  retires  to  rest  under  the  pine- 
tree,"  it  is  a  dangerous  step,  because  he  resigns  himself 
to  the  mother,  whose  garment  is  the  garment  of  death 
(the  devouring  mother).     As  in  the  whale-dragon,  the 


386        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

hero  also  in  this  situation  needs  a  "helpful  bird";  that 
is  to  say,  the  helpful  animals,  which  represent  the  benevo- 
lent parents : 

"  Suddenly  from  the  boughs  above  him 
Sang  the  Mama,  the  woodpecker; 
'  Aim  your  arrows,  Hiawatha, 
At  the  head  of  Megissogwon, 
Strike  the  tuft  of  hair  upon  it. 
At  their  roots  the  long  black  tresses; 
There  alone  can  he  be  wounded.'  " 

Now,  amusing  to  relate.  Mama  hurried  to  his  help. 
It  is  a  peculiar  fact  that  the  woodpecker  was  also  the 
"  Mama  "  of  Romulus  and  Remus,  who  put  nourishment 
into  the  mouths  of  the  twins  with  his  beak.^'*  (Compare 
with  that  the  role  of  the  vulture  in  Leonardo's  dream. 
The  vulture  is  sacred  to  Mars,  like  the  woodpecker.) 
With  the  maternal  significance  of  the  woodpecker,  the 
ancient  Italian  folk-superstition  agrees:  that  from  the 
tree  upon  which  this  bird  nested  any  nail  which  has  been 
driven  in  will  soon  drop  out  again. ^'*  The  woodpecker 
owes  its  special  significance  to  the  circumstance  that  he 
hammers  holes  into  trees.  ("To  drive  nails  in,"  as 
above!)  It  is,  therefore,  understandable  that  he  was 
made  much  of  in  the  Roman  legend  as  an  old  king  of 
the  country,  a  possessor  or  ruler  of  the  holy  tree,  the 
primitive  image  of  the  Paterfamilias.  An  old  fable  re- 
lates how  Circe,  the  spouse  of  King  Picus,  transformed 
him  into  the  Picus  Martins,  the  woodpecker.  The  sorcer- 
ess is  the  "  new-creating  mother,"  who  has  "  magic  in- 
fluence "  upon  the  sun-husband.     She  kills  him,  trans- 


J 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  387 

forms  him  into  the  soul-bird,  the  unfulfilled  wish.  Picus 
was  also  understood  as  the  wood  demon  and  incubus,  as 
well  as  the  soothsayer,  all  of  which  fully  indicate  the 
mother  libido. ^^  Picus  was  often  placed  on  a  par  with 
Picumnus  by  the  ancients.  Picumnus  is  the  inseparable 
companion  of  Pilumnus,  and  both  are  actually  called  in- 
fantiiim  dii,  "  the  gods  of  little  children."  Especially  it 
was  said  of  Pilumnus  that  he  defended  new-born  children 
against  the  destroying  attacks  of  the  wood  demon,  Sil- 
vanus.  (Good  and  bad  mother,  the  motive  of  the  two 
mothers.) 

The  benevolent  bird,  a  wish  thought  of  deliverance 
which  arises  from  introversion,^**  advises  the  hero  to  shoot 
the  magician  under  the  hair,  which  is  the  only  vulner- 
able spot.  This  spot  is  the  "  phallic  "  point,"  if  one  may 
venture  to  say  so;  it  is  at  the  top  of  the  head,  at  the  place 
where  the  mystic  birth  from  the  head  takes  place,  which 
even  today  appears  in  children's  sexual  theories.  Into 
that  Hiawatha  shoots  (one  may  say,  very  naturally) 
three  arrows  ^*  (the  well-known  phallic  symbol) ,  and  thus 
kills  Megissogwon.  Thereupon  he  steals  the  magic  wam- 
pum armor,  which  renders  him  invulnerable  (means  of 
immortality).  He  significantly  leaves  the  dead  lying  in 
the  water — because  the  magician  is  the  fearful  mother: 

"  On  the  shore  he  left  the  body, 
Half  on  land  and  half  in  water, 
In  the  sand  his  feet  were  buried, 
And  his  face  was  in  the  water." 

Thus  the  situation  is  the  same  as  with  the  fish  king, 
because  the  monster  is  the  personification  of  the  water 


388       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

of  death,  which  in  its  turn  represents  the  devouring 
mother.  This  great  deed  of  Hiawatha's,  where  he  has 
vanquished  the  mother  as  the  death-bringing  demon," 
is  followed  by  his  marriage  with  Minnehaha. 

A  little  fable  which  the  poet  has  inserted  in  the  later 
song  is  noteworthy.  An  old  man  is  transformed  into  a 
youth,  by  crawling  through  a  hollow  oak  tree. 

In  the  fourteenth  song  is  a  description  of  how  Hia- 
watha discovers  writing.  I  limit  myself  to  the  descrip- 
tion of  two  hieroglyphic  tokens : 

"  Gitche  Manito  the  Mighty, 
He,  the  Master  of  Life,  was  painted 
As  an  egg,  with  points  projecting 
To  the  four  winds  of  the  heavens. 
Everywhere  is  the  Great  Spirit, 
Was  the  meaning  of  this  symbol." 

The  world  lies  in  the  egg,  which  encompasses  it  at 
every  point;  it  is  the  cosmic  woman  with  child,  the  sym- 
bol of  which  Plato  as  well  as  the  Vedas  has  made  use  of. 
This  mother  is  like  the  air,  which  is  everywhere.  But  air 
is  spirit;  the  mother  of  the  world  is  a  spirit: 

"  Mitche  Manito  the  Mighty, 
He  the  dreadful  Spirit  of  Evil, 
As  a  serpent  was  depicted. 
As  Kenabeek,  the  great  serpent." 

But  the  spirit  of  evil  is  fear,  is  the  forbidden  desire, 
the  adversary  who  opposes  not  only  each  individual  heroic 
deed,  but  life  in  its  struggle  for  eternal  duration  as  well, 
and  who  introduces  into  our  body  the  poison  of  weak- 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  389 

ness  and  age  through  the  treacherous  bite  of  the  serpent. 
It  is  all  that  is  retrogressive,  and  as  the  model  of  our 
first  world  is  our  mother,  all  retrogressive  tendencies  are 
towards  the  mother,  and,  therefore,  are  disguised  under 
the  incest  image. 

In  both  these  ideas  the  poet  has  represented  in  mytho- 
logic  symbols  the  libido  arising  from  the  mother  and 
the  libido  striving  backward  towards  the  mother. 

There  is  a  description  in  the  fifteenth  song  how  Chibia- 
bos,  Hiawatha's  best  friend,  the  amiable  player  and  singer, 
the  embodiment  of  the  joy  of  life,  was  enticed  by  the  evil 
spirits  into  ambush,  fell  through  the  ice  and  was  drowned. 
Hiawatha  mourns  for  him  so  long  that  he  succeeds,  with 
the  aid  of  the  magician,  in  calling  him  back  again.  But  the 
revivified  friend  is  only  a  spirit,  and  he  becomes  master  of 
the  land  of  spirits.  (Osiris,  lord  of  the  underworld;  the 
two  Dioscuri.)  Battles  again  follow,  and  then  comes  the 
loss  of  a  second  friend,  Kwasind,  the  embodiment  of 
physical  strength. 

In  the  twentieth  song  occur  famine  and  the  death  of 
Minnehaha,  foretold  by  two  taciturn  guests  from  the 
land  of  death;  and  in  the  twenty-second  song  Hiawatha 
prepares  for  a  final  journey  to  the  west  land: 

"  I  am  going,  O  Nokomis, 
On  a  long  and  distant  journey, 
To  the  portals  of  the  Sunset, 
To  the  regions  of  the  home-wind, 
Of  the  Northwest-Wind  Keewaydin. 

"  One  long  track  and  trail  of  splendor, 
Down  whose  stream,  as  down  a  river, 


390       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Westward,  westward,  Hiawatha 
Sailed  into  the  fiery  sunset, 
Sailed  into  the  purple  vapors, 
Sailed  into  the  dusk  of  evening. 

"  Thus  departed  Hiawatha, 
Hiawatha  the  Beloved, 
In  the  glory  of  the  sunset, 
In  the  purple  mists  of  evening. 
To  the  regions  of  the  home-wind. 
Of  the  Northwest-Wind,  Keewaydin, 
To  the  Islands  of  the  Blessed, 
To  the  kingdom  of  Ponemah, 
To  the  land  of  the  Hereafter !  " 

The  sun,  victoriously  arising,  tears  itself  away  from 
the  embrace  and  clasp,  from  the  enveloping  womb  of 
the  sea,  and  sinks  again  into  the  maternal  sea,  into  night, 
the  all-enveloping  and  the  all-reproducing,  leaving  behind 
it  the  heights  of  midday  and  all  its  glorious  works.  This 
image  was  the  first,  and  was  profoundly  entitled  to  be- 
come the  symbolic  carrier  of  human  destiny;  in  the  morn- 
ing of  life  man  painfully  tears  himself  loose  from  the 
mother,  from  the  domestic  hearth,  to  rise  through  battle 
to  his  heights.  Not  seeing  his  worst  enemy  in  front  of 
him,  but  bearing  him  within  himself  as  a  deadly  longing 
for  the  depths  within,  for  drowning  in  his  own  source, 
for  becoming  absorbed  into  the  mother,  his  life  is  a  con- 
stant struggle  with  death,  a  violent  and  transitory  delivery 
from  the  always  lurking  night.  This  death  is  no  external 
enemy,  but  a  deep  personal  longing  for  quiet  and  for  the 
profound  peace  of  non-existence,  for  a  dreamless  sleep 
in  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  sea  of  life.  Even  in  his  highest 
endeavor  for  harmony  and  eguilibrium,  for  philosophic 


i 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  391 

depths  and  artistic  enthusiasm,  he  seeks  death,  immobil- 
ity, satiety  and  rest.  If,  like  Peirithoos,  he  tarries  too 
long  in  this  place  of  rest  and  peace,  he  is  overcome  by 
torpidity,  and  the  poison  of  the  serpent  paralyzes  him  for 
all  time.  If  he  is  to  live  he  must  fight  and  sacrifice  his 
longing  for  the  past,  in  order  to  rise  to  his  own  heights. 
And  having  reached  the  noonday  heights,  he  must  also 
sacrifice  the  love  for  his  own  achievement,  for  he  may  not 
loiter.  The  sun  also  sacrifices  its  greatest  strength  in 
order  to  hasten  onwards  to  the  fruits  of  autumn,  which 
are  the  seeds  of  immortality;  fulfilled  in  children,  in 
works,  in  posthumous  fame,  in  a  new  order  of  things,  all 
of  which  in  their  turn  begin  and  complete  the  sun's 
course  over  again. 

The  "  Song  of  Hiawatha  "  contains,  as  these  extracts 
show,  a  material  which  is  very  well  adapted  to  bring  into 
play  the  abundance  of  ancient  symbolic  possibilities, 
latent  in  the  human  mind,  and  to  stimulate  it  to  the  creation 
of  mythologic  figures.  But  the  products  always  contain  the 
same  old  problems  of  humanity,  which  rise  again  and  again 
in  new  symbolic  disguise  from  the  shadowy  world  of  the 
unconscious.  Thus  Miss  Miller  is  reminded  through  the 
longing  of  Chiwantopel,  of  another  mythic  cycle  which 
appeared  in  the  form  of  Wagner's  "  Siegfried."  Espe- 
cially is  this  shown  in  the  passage  in  Chiwantopel's  mono- 
logue, where  he  exclaims,  "  There  is  not  one  who  under- 
stands me,  not  one  who  resembles  me,  not  one  who  has  a 
soul  sister  to  mine."  Miss  Miller  observes  that  the 
sentiment  of  this  passage  has  the  greatest  analogy  with 
the  feelings  which  Siegfried  experienced  for  Brunhilde. 


392        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

This  analogy  causes  us  to  cast  a  glance  at  the  song  of 
Siegfried,  especially  at  the  relation  of  Siegfried  and 
Brunhilde.  It  is  a  well-recognized  fact  that  Brunhilde, 
the  Valkyr,  gives  protection  to  the  birth  (incestuous) 
of  Siegfried,  but  while  Sieglinde  is  the  human  mother, 
Brunhilde  has  the  role  of  "  spiritual  mother  "  (mother- 
imago)  ;  however,  unlike  Hera  towards  Hercules,  she  is 
not  a  pursuer,  but  benevolent.  This  sin,  in  which  she  is 
an  accomplice,  by  means  of  the  help  she  renders,  is  the 
reason  for  her  banishment  by  Wotan.  The  strange  birth 
of  Siegfried  from  the  sister-wife  distinguishes  him  as 
Horus,  as  the  reborn  son,  a  reincarnation  of  the  retreat- 
ing Osiris — Wotan.  The  birth  of  the  young  son,  of  the 
hero,  results,  indeed,  from  mankind,  who,  however,  are 
merely  the  human  bearers  of  the  cosmic  symbolism.  Thus 
the  birth  is  protected  by  the  spirit  mother  (Hera,  Lilith)  : 
she  sends  Sieglinde  with  the  child  in  her  womb  (Mary's 
flight)  on  the  "  night  journey  on  the  sea  "  to  the  east: 

"  Onward,  hasten ; 
Turn  to  the  East. 

O  woman,  thou  cherishest 
The  sublimest  hero  of  the  world 
In  thy  sheltering  womb." 

The  motive  of  dismemberment  is  found  again  in  the 
broken  sword  of  Siegmund,  which  was  kept  for  Sieg- 
fried. From  the  dismemberment  life  is  pieced  together 
again.  (The  Medea  wonder.)  Just  as  a  smith  forges 
the  pieces  together,  so  is  the  dismembered  dead  again 
put    together.      (This    comparison    is    also    found    in 


I 

( 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  393 

'*  TImaios "  of  Plato :  the  parts  of  the  world  joined 
together  with  pegs.)  In  the  Rigveda,  10,  72,  the  creator 
of  the  world,  Brahmanaspati,  is  a  smith. 

"  Brahmanaspati,  as  a  blacksmith, 
Welded  the  world  together." 

The  sword  has  the  significance  of  the  phallic  sun  power; 
therefore,  a  sword  proceeds  from  the  mouth  of  the 
apocalyptic  Christ;  that  is  to  say,  the  procreative  fire,  the 
word,  or  the  procreative  Logos.  In  Rigveda,  Brahmana- 
spati is  also  a  prayer-word,  which  possessed  an  ancient 
creative  significance :  ^° 

"  And  this  prayer  of  the  singers,  expanding  from  itself. 
Became  a  cow,  which  was  already  there  before  the  world. 
Dwelling  together  in  the  womb  of  this  god, 
Foster-children  of  the  same  keeper  are  the  gods." 

— Rigveda  x:  31. 

The  Logos  became  a  cow;  that  is  to  say,  the  mother, 
who  is  pregnant  with  the  gods.  (In  Christian  uncanoni- 
cal  phantasies,  where  the  Holy  Ghost  has  feminine  sig- 
nificance, we  have  the  well-known  motive  of  the  two 
mothers,  the  earthly  mother,  Mary,  and  the  spiritual 
mother,  the  Holy  Ghost.)  The  transformation  of  the 
Logos  into  the  mother  is  not  remarkable  in  itself,  because 
the  origin  of  the  phenomenon  fire-speech  seems  to  be  the 
mother-libido,  according  to  the  discussion  in  the  earlier 
chapter.  The  spiritual  is  the  mother-libido.  The  sig- 
nificance of  the  sword,  in  the  Sanskrit  conception,  tejas, 
is  probably  partly  determined  by  its  sharpness,  as  is 
shown  above,  in  its  connection  with  the  libido  conception. 


394        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

The  motive  of  pursuit  (the  pursuing  Sieglinde,  analogous 
to  Leto)  is  not  here  bound  up  with  the  spiritual  mother, 
but  with  Wotan,  therefore  corresponding  to  the  Linos 
legend,  where  the  father  of  the  wife  is  also  the  pursuer. 
Wotan  is  also  the  father  of  Brunhilde.  Brunhilde  stands 
in  a  peculiar  relation  to  Wotan.  Brunhilde  says  to 
Wotan : 

"  Thou  speakest  to  the  will  of  Wotan 
By  telling  me  what  thou  wishest: 
Who  ...  am  I 
Were  I  not  thy  will?  " 

Wotan  : 

I  take  counsel  only  with  myself, 
When  I  speak  with  thee  .  .  . 

Brunhilde  is  also  somewhat  the  "  angel  of  the  face," 
that  creative  will  or  word,"  emanating  from  God,  also 
the  Logos,  which  became  the  child-bearing  woman.  God 
created  the  world  through  his  word;  that  is  to  say,  his 
mother,  the  woman  who  is  to  bring  him  forth  again. 
(He  lays  his  own  egg.)  This  peculiar  conception,  it 
seems  to  me,  can  be  explained  by  assuming  that  the  libido 
overflowing  into  speech  (thought)  has  preserved  its 
sexual  character  to  an  extraordinary  degree  as  a  result 
of  the  inherent  inertia.  In  this  way  the  "  word  "  had  to  j 
execute  and  fulfil  all  that  was  denied  to  the  sexual  wish; 
namely,  the  return  into  the  mother,  in  order  to  attain  j 
eternal  duration.  The  "  word  "  fulfils  this  wish  by  itself 
becoming  the  daughter,  the  wife,  the  mother  of  the  God, 
who  brings  him  forth  anew.®- 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  395 

Wagner  has  this  idea  vaguely  in  his  mind  in  Wotan's 
lament  over  Brunhilde : 

"  None  as  she  knew  my  inmost  thought; 
None  knew  the  source  of  my  will 
As  she ; 

She  herself  was 

The  creating  womb  of  my  wish ; 
And  so  now  she  has  broken 
The  blessed  union!  " 

Brunhilde's  sin  is  the  favoring  of  Siegmund,  but,  be- 
hind this,  lies  incest:  this  is  projected  into  the  brother- 
sister  relation  of  Siegmund  and  Sieglinde;  in  reality,  and 
archaically  expressed,  Wotan,  the  father,  has  entered  into 
his  self-created  daughter,  in  order  to  rejuvenate  himself. 
But  this  fact  must,  of  course,  be  veiled.  Wotan  is  rightly 
indignant  with  Brunhilde,  for  she  has  taken  the  Isis  role 
and  through  the  birth  of  the  son  has  deprived  the  old 
man  of  his  power.  The  first  attack  of  the  death  ser- 
pent in  the  form  of  the  son,  Siegmund,  Wotan  has  re- 
pelled; he  has  broken  Siegmund's  sword,  but  Siegmund 
rises  again  in  a  grandson.  This  Inevitable  fate  is  always 
helped  by  the  woman;  hence  the  wrath  of  Wotan. 

At  Siegfried's  birth  Sieglinde  dies,  as  is  proper.  The 
foster-mother  '^^  is  apparently  not  a  woman,  but  a  chthonic 
god,  a  crippled  dwarf,  who  belongs  to  that  tribe  which 
renounces  love.®*  The  Egyptian  god  of  the  underworld, 
the  crippled  shadow  of  Osiris  (who  celebrated  a  melan- 
choly resurrection  in  the  sexless  semi-ape  Harpocrates), 
is  the  tutor  of  Horus,  who  has  to  avenge  the  death  of  his 
father. 


k 


396       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Meanwhile  Brunhilde  sleeps  the  enchanted  sleep,  like  a 
Hierosgamos,  upon  a  mountain,  where  Wotan  has  put  her 
to  sleep  ®^  with  the  magic  thorn  (Edda),  surrounded  by 
the  flames  of  Wotan's  fire  (equal  to  libido®''),  which 
wards  off  every  one.  But  Mime  becomes  Siegfried's 
enemy  and  wills  his  death  through  Fafner.  Here  Mime's 
dynamic  nature  is  revealed;  he  is  a  masculine  representa- 
tion of  the  terrible  mother,  also  a  foster-mother  of  de- 
moniac nature,  who  places  the  poisonous  worm  (Typhon) 
in  her  son's  (Horus's)  path.  Siegfried's  longing  for  the 
mother  drives  him  away  from  Mime,  and  his  travels  begin 
with  the  mother  of  death,  and  lead  through  vanquishing 
the  "  terrible  mother  "  ®^  to  the  woman: 

Siegfried : 

Off  with  the  imp ! 

I  ne'er  would  see  him  more! 

Might  I  but  know  what  my  mother  was  like 

That  will  my  thought  never  tell  me ! 

Her  eyes'  tender  light 

Surely  did  shine 

Like  the  soft  eyes  of  the  doe ! 

Siegfried  decides  to  separate  from  the  demon  which 
was  the  mother  in  the  past,  and  he  gropes  forward  with 
the  longing  directed  towards  the  mother.  Nature  ac- 
quires a  hidden  maternal  significance  for  him  ("  doe  ")  ; 
in  the  tones  of  nature  he  discovers  a  suggestion  of  the 
maternal  voice  and  the  maternal  language : 

Siegfried : 

Thou  gracious  birdling, 
Strange  art  thou  to  me ! 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  397 

Dost  thou  in  the  wood  here  dwell? 
Ah,  would  that  I  could  take  thy  meaning! 
Thy  song  something  would  say — 
Perchance — of  my  loving  mother! 

This  psychology  we  have  already  encountered  in  Hia- 
watha. By  means  of  his  dialogue  with  the  bird  (bird, 
like  wind  and  arrow,  represents  the  wish,  the  winged 
longing)  Siegfried  entices  Fafner  from  the  cave.  His 
desires  turn  back  to  the  mother,  and  the  chthonic  demon, 
the  cave-dwelling  terror  of  the  woods,  appears.  Fafner 
is  the  protector  of  the  treasure;  in  his  cave  lies  the  hoard, 
the  source  of  life  and  power.  The  mother  possesses  the 
libido  of  the  son,  and  jealously  does  she  guard  it.  Trans- 
lated into  psychological  language,  this  means  the  positive 
transference  succeeds  only  through  the  release  of  the 
libido  from  the  mother-imago,  the  incestuous  object  in 
general.  Only  in  this  manner  is  it  possible  to  gain  one's 
libido,  the  incomparable  treasure,  and  this  requires  a 
mighty  struggle,  the  whole  battle  of  adaptation. ^^  The 
Siegfried  legend  has  abundantly  described  the  outcome  of 
this  battle  with  Fafner.  According  to  the  Edda,  Sieg- 
fried eats  Fafner's  heart,  the  seat  of  life.  He  wins  the 
magic  cap,  through  whose  power  Alberich  had  changed 
himself  into  a  serpent.  This  refers  to  the  motive  of  cast- 
ing the  skin,  rejuvenation.  By  means  of  the  magic  cap 
one  can  vanish  and  assume  different  shapes.  The  van- 
ishing probably  refers  to  dying  and  to  the  invisible  pres- 
ence; that  Is,  existence  In  the  mother's  womb.  A  luck- 
bringing  cap,  amniotic  covering,  the  new-born  child  oc- 
casionally wears  over  his  head   (the  caul).     Moreover, 


398       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Siegfried  drinks  the  dragon's  blood,  which  makes  it  pos- 
sible for  him  to  understand  the  language  of  birds,  and 
consequently  he  enters  into  a  peculiar  relation  with  Na- 
ture, a  dominating  position,  the  result  of  his  knowledge, 
and  finally  wins  the  treasure. 

Hort  is  a  mediaeval  and  Old  High  German  word  with 
the  meaning  of  "collected  and  guarded  treasure"; 
Gothic,  huzd;  Old  Scandinavian,  hodd;  Germanic  hozda, 
from  pre-Germanic  kuzdho — for  kudtho  — "  the  con- 
cealed." Kluge  '^^  adds  to  this  the  Greek  navdco, 
sKvdov  =  "  to  hide,  to  conceal."  Also  hut  {hut,  to 
guard;  English,  hide),  Germanic  root  hud,  from  Indo- 
Germanic  kuth  (questionable),  to  Greek  kevBgd  and 
Hvado?,  "  cavity,"  feminine  genitals.  Prellwitz,'^"  too, 
traces  Gothic  huzd,  Anglo-Saxon  hyde,  English  hide  and 
hoard,  to  Greek  ksvOoj.  Whitley  Stokes  traces  English 
hide,  Anglo-Saxon  hydan,  New  High  German  Hiitte, 
Latin  cudo  =  helmet;  Sanskrit  kuhara  (cave?)  to  primi- 
tive Celtic  ^oM^o  =  concealment;  Latin,  occultatio. 

The  assumption  of  Kluge  is  also  supported  in  other 
directions;  namely,  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  primi- 
tive idea : 

"There  exists  in  Athens''^  a  sacred  place  (a  Temenos)  of  Ge, 
with  the  surname  Olympia.  Here  the  ground  is  torn  open  for 
about  a  yard  in  width;  and  they  say,  after  the  flood  at  the  time 
of  Deucalion,  that  the  water  receded  here;  and  every  year  they 
throw  into  the  fissure  wheatmeal,  kneaded  with  honey." 

We  have  observed  previously  that  among  the  Arrhe- 
tophorian,  pastry  in  the  form  of  snakes  and  phalli,  was 
thrown  into  a  crevice  in  the  earth.    This  was  mentioned 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  399 

in  connection  with  the  ceremonies  of  fertilizing  the  earth. 
We  have  touched  sHghtly  already  upon  the  sacrifice  in 
the  earth  crevice  among  the  Watschandies.  The  flood 
of  death  has  passed  characteristically  into  the  crevice  of 
the  earth;  that  is,  back  into  the  mother  again;  because 
from  the  mother  the  universal  great  death  has  come  in 
the  first  place.  The  flood  is  simply  the  counterpart  of  the 
vivifying  and  all-producing  water :  ^fLxsayov,  00  nsp  yi- 
veffi?  TtavreffGi  rirvKxai*  One  sacrifices  the  honey  cake 
to  the  mother,  so  that  she  may  spare  one  from  death. 
Thus  every  year  in  Rome  a  gold  sacrifice  was  thrown 
into  the  lacus  Curtius,  into  the  former  fissure  in  the  earth, 
which  could  only  be  closed  through  the  sacrificial  death 
of  Curtius.  He  was  the  typical  hero,  who  has  journeyed 
into  the  underworld,  in  order  to  conquer  the  danger 
threatening  the  Roman  state  from  the  opening  of  the 
abyss.  (Kaineus,  Amphiaraos. )  In  the  Amphiaraion  of 
Oropos  those  healed  through  the  temple  incubation  threw 
their  gifts  of  gold  into  the  sacred  well,  of  which  Pau- 
sanias  says : 

"  If  any  one  is  healed  of  a  sickness  through  a  saying  of  the 
oracle,  then  it  is  customary  to  throw  a  silver  or  gold  coin  into  the 
well ;  because  here  Amphiaraos  has  ascended  as  a  god." 

It  is  probable  that  this  oropic  well  is  also  the  place  of 
his  "  Katabasis  "  (descent  into  the  lower  world).  There 
were  many  entrances  into  Hades  in  antiquity.  Thus  near 
Eleusis  there  was  an  abyss,  through  which  Aidoneus 
passed  up  and  down,  when  he  kidnapped  Cora.     (Dragon 

*  Ocean,  who  arose  to  be  the  producer  of  all. 


400       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

and  maiden:  the  libido  overcome  by  resistance,  life  re- 
placed by  death.)  There  were  crevices  in  the  rocks, 
through  which  souls  could  ascend  to  the  upper  world.  Be- 
hind the  temple  of  Chthonia  in  Hermione  lay  a  sacred 
district  of  Pluto,  with  a  ravine  through  which  Hercules 
had  brought  up  Cerberus;  in  addition,  there  was  an 
"  Acherusian  "  lake.''^  This  ravine  was,  therefore,  the 
entrance  to  the  place  where  death  was  conquered.  The 
lake  also  belongs  here  as  a  further  mother  symbol,  for 
symbols  appear  massed  together,  as  they  are  surrogates, 
and,  therefore,  do  not  afford  the  same  satisfaction  of  de- 
sire as  accorded  by  reality,  so  that  the  unsatisfied  rem- 
nant of  the  libido  must  seek  still  further  symbolic  outlets. 
The  ravine  in  the  Areopagus  in  Athens  was  considered 
the  seat  of  inhabitants  of  the  lower  world.  An  old 
Grecian  custom  ''^  suggests  a  similar  idea.  Girls  were 
sent  into  a  cavern,  where  a  poisonous  snake  dwelt,  as  a 
test  of  virginity.  If  they  were  bitten  by  the  snake,  it  was 
a  token  that  they  were  no  longer  chaste.  We  find  this 
same  motive  again  in  the  Roman  legend  of  St.  Silvester, 
at  the  end  of  the  fifth  century:  ^* 

"  Erat  draco  immanissimus  in  monte  Tarpeio,  in  quo  est  Capi- 
tolium  collocatum.  Ad  hunc  draconem  per  CCCLXV  gradus, 
quasi  ad  infernum,  magi  cum  virginibus  sacrilegis  descendebant 
semel  in  mense  cum  sacrificiis  et  lustris,  ex  quibus  esca  poterat 
tanto  draconi  inferri.  Hie  draco  subito  ex  improvise  ascendebat 
et  licet  non  ingrederetur  vicinos  tamen  aeres  flatu  sue  vitiabat. 
Ex  quo  mortalitas  hominum  et  maxima  luctus  de  morte  veniebat 
infantum.  (Lilith  motive.)  Sanctus  itaque  Silvester  cum  haberet 
cum  paganis  pro  defensione  veritatis  conflictum,  ad  hoc  venit  ut 
dicerent  ei  pagani :  '  Silvester  descende  ad  draconem  et  f ac  eum 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  401 

in  nomine  Dei  tui  vel  uno  anno  ab  interfectione  generis  humani 
cessare.    * 

St.  Peter  appeared  to  Silvester  in  a  dream  and  advised 
him  to  close  his  door  to  the  underworld  with  chains,  ac- 
cording to  the  model  in  Revelation,  chap,  xx: 

( 1 )  "  And  I  saw  an  angel  come  down  from  heaven,  having  the 
key  of  the  bottomless  pit,  and  a  great  chain  in  his  hand. 

(2)  "And  he  laid  hold  on  the  dragon,  that  old  serpent,  which 
is  the  Devil  and  Satan,  and  bound  him  a  thousand  years. 

(3)  "And  cast  him  into  the  bottomless  pit,  and  shut  him  up, 
and  set  a  seal  upon  him." 

The  anonymous  author  of  a  writing,  "  De  Promissioni- 
bus,"  "  of  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century,  mentions  a 
very  similar  legend: 

"  Apud  urbem  Romam  specus  quidam  fuit  in  quo  draco  miras 
magnitudinis  mechanica  arte  formatus,  gladium  ore  gestans,^^ 
oculis  rutilantibus  gemmis  "^  metuendus  ac  terribilis  apparebat. 
Hinc  annuae  devote  virgines  floribus  exornatse,  eo  modo  in  sac- 
rificio  dabantur,  quatenus  inscias  munera  deferentes  gradum 
scalas,  quo  certe  ille  arte  diaboli  draco  pendebat,  contingentes  im- 
petus venientis  gladii  perimeret,  ut  sanguinem  funderet  inno- 
centem.  Et  hunc  quidam  monachus,  bene  ob  meritum  cognitus 
Stiliconi  tunc  patricio,  eo  modo  subvertit;  baculo,  manu,  singulos 
gradus    palpandos    inspiciens,    statim    ut    ilium    tangens    fraudem 

*  There  was  a  huge  dragon  on  Mount  Tarpeius,  where  the  Capitolium 
stands.  Once  a  month,  with  sacrilegious  maidens,  the  priests  descended 
365  steps  into  the  hell  of  this  dragon,  carrying  expiatory  offerings  of  food 
for  the  dragon.  Then  the  dragon  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  arose, 
and,  though  he  did  not  come  out,  he  poisoned  the  air  with  his  breath. 
Thence  came  the  mortality  of  man  and  the  deepest  sorrow  for  the  death 
of  the  children.  When,  for  the  defence  of  truth,  St.  Silvester  had  had  a 
conflict  with  the  heathen,  it  came  to  this  that  the  heathen  said:  "  Silvester, 
go  down  to  the  dragon,  and  in  the  name  of  thy  God  make  him  desist  from 
the  killing  of  mankind." 


402        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

diabolicam  repperit,  eo  transgresso  descendens,  draconem  scidit, 
misitque  in  partes:  ostendens  et  hie  deos  non  esse  qui  manu 
fiunt."  * 

The  hero  battling  with  the  dragon  has  much  in  common 
with  the  dragon,  and  also  he  takes  over  his  qualities;  for 
example,  invulnerability.  As  the  footnotes  show,  the  simi- 
larity is  carried  still  further  (sparkling  eyes,  sword  in  his 
mouth).  Translated  psychologically,  the  dragon  is 
merely  the  son's  repressed  longing,  striving  towards  the 
mother;  therefore,  the  son  is  the  dragon,  as  even 
Christ  is  identified  with  the  serpent,  which,  once  upon  a 
time,  similia  simllibus,  had  controlled  the  snake  plague 
in  the  Wilderness.  John  iii :  14.  As  a  serpent  he  is 
to  be  crucified;  that  is  to  say,  as  one  striving  backwards 
towards  the  mother,  he  must  die  hanging  or  suspended 
on  the  mother  tree.  Christ  and  the  dragon  of  the  Anti- 
christ are  in  the  closest  contact  in  the  history  of  their 
appearance  and  their  cosmic  meaning.  (Compare  Bous- 
set,  the  Antichrist.)     The  legend  of  the  dragon  concealed 

*  Near  the  city  of  Rome  there  was  a  certain  cavern  in  which  appeared 
a  dragon  of  remarkable  size,  mechanically  produced,  brandishing  a  sword 
in  his  mouth,  his  eyes  glittering  like  gems,  fearful  and  terrible.  Hither 
came  virgins  every  year,  devoted  to  this  service,  adorned  with  flowers, 
who  were  given  to  him  in  sacrifice.  Bringing  these  gifts,  they  unknow- 
ingly descended  the  steps  to  a  point  where,  with  diabolical  cunning,  the 
dragon  was  suspended,  striking  those  who  came  a  blow  with  the  sword, 
so  that  the  innocent  blood  was  shed.  Now,  there  was  a  certain  monk 
who,  on  account  of  his  good  deeds,  was  well  known  to  Stilico,  the  patri- 
cian; he  killed  this  dragon  as  follows:  He  examined  each  separate  step 
carefully,  both  with  a  rod  and  his  own  hand,  until,  discovering  the  false 
step,  he  exposed  the  diabolical  fraud.  Then,  jumping  over  this  step, 
he  went  down  and  killed  the  dragon,  cutting  him  to  pieces,  demon- 
strating that  one  who  could  be  destroyed  by  human  hand  could  not  be  a 
divinity. 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  403 

in  the  Antichrist  myth  belongs  to  the  life  of  the  hero, 
and,  therefore,  is  immortal.  In  none  of  the  newer  forms 
of  myth  are  the  pairs  of  opposites  so  perceptibly  near  as 
in  that  of  Christ  and  Antichrist.  (I  refer  to  the  remark- 
able psychologic  description  of  this  problem  in  Meresch- 
kowski's  romance,  "Leonardo  da  Vinci.")  That  the 
dragon  is  only  an  artifice  is  a  useful  and  delightfully 
rationalistic  conceit,  which  is  most  significant  for  that 
period.  In  this  way  the  dismal  gods  were  effectually  vul- 
garized. The  schizophrenic  insane  readily  make  use  of  this 
mechanism,  in  order  to  depreciate  efficient  personalities. 
One  often  hears  the  stereotyped  lament,  "  It  is  all  a  play, 
artificial,  made  up,"  etc.  A  dream  of  a  "  schizophrenic  " 
is  most  significant;  he  is  sitting  in  a  dark  room,  which 
has  only  a  single  small  window,  through  which  he  can  see 
the  sky.  The  sun  and  moon  appear,  but  they  are  only 
made  artificially  from  oil  paper.  (Denial  of  the  delete- 
rious incest  influence.) 

The  descent  of  the  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  steps 
refers  to  the  sun's  course,  to  the  cavern  of  death  and  re- 
birth. That  this  cavern  actually  stands  in  a  relation  to 
the  subterranean  mother  of  death  can  be  shown  by  a  note 
in  Malalas,  the  historian  of  Antioch,^^  who  relates  that 
Diocletian  consecrated  there  a  crypt  to  Hecate,  to  which 
one  descends  by  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  steps.  Cave 
mysteries  seem  to  have  been  celebrated  for  Hecate  in 
Samothrace  as  well.  The  serpent  also  played  a  great  part 
as  a  regular  symbolic  attribute  in  the  service  of  Hecate. 
The  mysteries  of  Hecate  flourished  in  Rome  towards  the 
end  of  the   fourth   century,   so   that  the   two   foregoing 


404       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

legends  might  indeed  relate  to  her  cult.  Hecate  ^*  is  a 
real  spectral  goddess  of  night  and  phantoms,  a  Mar;  she 
is  represented  as  riding,  and  in  Hesiod  occurs  as  the 
patron  of  riders.  She  sends  the  horrible  nocturnal  fear 
phantom,  the  Empusa,  of  whom  Aristophanes  says  that 
she  appears  inclosed  in  a  bladder  swollen  with  blood. 
According  to  Libanius,  the  mother  of  Aischines  is  also 
called  Empusa,  for  the  reason  that  en  GHorsivcav  ronoov 
roii  Tiaiffiv  nai  taiS  yvvai^iv  (yp/^^ro."* 

Empusa,  like  Hecate,  has  peculiar  feet;  one  foot  is 
made  of  brass,  the  other  of  ass'  dung.  Hecate  has  snake- 
like feet,  which,  as  in  the  triple  form  ascribed  to  Hecate, 
points  to  her  phallic  libido  nature. ^^  In  Tralles,  Hecate 
appears  next  to  Priapus;  there  is  also  a  Hecate  Aphro- 
disias.  Her  symbols  are  the  key,"  the  whip,^^  the  snake,^^ 
the  dagger  **  and  the  torch. ^^  As  mother  of  death,  dogs 
accompany  her,  the  significance  of  which  we  have  pre- 
viously discussed  at  length.  As  guardian  of  the  door  of 
Hades  and  as  Goddess  of  dogs,  she  is  of  threefold  form, 
and  really  identified  with  Cerberus.  Thus  Hercules,  in 
bringing  up  Cerberus,  brings  the  conquered  mother  of 
death  into  the  upper  world.  As  spirit  mother  (moon!), 
she  sends  madness,  lunacy.  (This  mythical  observation 
states  that  "  the  mother  "  sends  madness;  by  far  the  ma- 
jority of  the  cases  of  insanity  consist,  in  fact,  in  the  domi- 
nation of  the  individual  by  the  material  of  the  incest 
phantasy.)  In  the  mysteries  of  Cerberus,  a  rod, 
called  \Evji6(pv'K.Xo?,\  was  broken  off.    This  rod  protected 

*  Out  of  dark  places  she  rushes  on  children  and  women. 

t  White-leaved. 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  405 

the  purity  of  virgins,  and  caused  any  one  who  touched 
the  plant  to  become  insane.  We  recognize  in  this  the 
motive  of  the  sacred  tree,  which,  as  mother,  must  not 
be  touched,  an  act  which  only  an  insane  person  would 
commit.  Hecate,  as  nightmare,  appears  in  the  form  of 
Empusa,  in  a  vampire  role,  or  as  Lamia,  as  devourer  of 
men;  perhaps,  also,  in  that  more  beautiful  guise,  "The 
Bride  of  Corinth."  She  is  the  mother  of  all  charms  and 
witches,  the  patron  of  Medea,  because  the  power  of  the 
"terrible  mother"  is  magical  and  irresistible  (working 
upward  from  the  unconscious).  In  Greek  syncretism, 
she  plays  a  very  significant  role.  She  is  confused  with 
Artemis,  who  also  has  the  surname  iudrri^^  "  the  one 
striking  at  a  distance  "  or  "  striking  according  to  her 
will,"  in  which  we  recognize  again  her  superior  power. 
Artemis  is  the  huntress,  with  hounds,  and  so  Hecate, 
through  confusion  with  her,  becomes  uvvrjyeriKrj,  the 
wild  nocturnal  huntress.  (God,  as  huntsman,  see  above.) 
She  has  her  name  in  common  with  Apollo,  exaro? 
ixdepyo^.-f  From  the  standpoint  of  the  libido  theory, 
this  connection  is  easily  understandable,  because  Apollo 
merely  symbolizes  the  more  positive  side  of  the  same 
amount  of  libido.  The  confusion  of  Hecate  with  Brimo 
as  subterranean  mother  is  understandable;  also  with 
Persephone  and  Rhea,  the  primitive  all-mother.  Intel- 
ligible through  the  maternal  significance  is  the  confusion 
with  Ilithyia,  the  midwife.  Hecate  is  also  the  direct 
goddess  of  births,  7iovporp6q)o?,X   the  multiplier  of  cat- 

*  Far-shooting  Hecate.  t  Far-shooting,  the  far-darting. 

X  Goddess  of  birth. 


4o6       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

tie,  and  goddess  of  marriage.  Hecate,  orphlcally,  oc- 
cupies the  centre  of  the  world  as  Aphrodite  and  Gala, 
even  as  the  world  soul  in  general.  On  a  carved  gem  ®^ 
she  is  represented  carrying  the  cross  on  her  head.  The 
beam  on  v/hich  the  criminal  was  scourged  is  called 
ijidry.  *  To  her,  as  to  the  Roman  Trivia,  the  triple  roads, 
or  Scheideweg,  "  forked  road,"  or  crossways  were  dedi- 
cated. And  where  roads  branch  off  or  unite  sacrifices  of 
dogs  were  brought  her;  there  the  bodies  of  the  executed 
were  thrown;  the  sacrifice  occurs  at  the  pomt  of  crossing. 
Etymologically,  scheide,  "sheath";  for  example,  sword- 
sheath,  sheath  for  water-shed  and  sheath  for  vagina,  is 
identical  with  scheiden,  "  to  split,"  or  "  to  separate."  The 
meaning  of  a  sacrifice  at  this  place  would,  therefore,  be 
as  follows :  to  offer  something  to  the  mother  at  the  place 
of  junction  or  at  the  fissure.  (Compare  the  sacrifice  to 
the  chthonic  gods  in  the  abyss.)  The  Temenos  of  Ge,  the 
abyss  and  the  well,  are  easily  understood  as  the  gates  of 
life  and  death,"  "  past  which  every  one  gladly  creeps  " 
(Faust),  and  sacrifices  there  his  obolus  or  his  7reXayoi,\ 
instead  of  his  body,  just  as  Hercules  soothes  Cerberus 
with  the  honey  cakes.  (Compare  with  this  the  mythical 
significance  of  the  dog!)  Thus  the  crevice  at  Delphi, 
with  the  spring,  Castalia,  was  the  seat  of  the  chthonic 
dragon,  Python,  who  was  conquered  by  the  sun-hero, 
Apollo.  (Python,  incited  by  Hera,  pursued  Leta,  preg- 
nant with  Apollo;  but  she,  on  the  floating  island  of  Delos 
[nocturnal  journey  on  the  sea],  gave  birth  to  her  child, 
who  later  slew  the  Python;  that  is  to  say,  conquered  in 

*  Hecate.  f  Sacrificial  cakes  offered  to  the    gods. 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  407 

it  the  spirit  mother.)  In  HIerapolis  (Edessa)  the  temple 
was  erected  above  the  crevice  through  v/hich  the  flood 
had  poured  out,  and  in  Jerusalem  the  foundation  stone 
of  the  temple  covered  the  great  abyss, ®^  just  as  Christian 
churches  are  frequently  built  over  caves,  grottoes,  wells, 
etc.  In  the  Mithra  grotto, ^^  and  all  the  other  sacred 
caves  up  to  the  Christian  catacombs,  which  owe  their 
significance  not  to  the  legendary  persecutions  but  to  the 
worship  of  the  dead,^*^  we  come  across  the  same  funda- 
mental motive.  The  burial  of  the  dead  in  a  holy  place 
(in  the  "  garden  of  the  dead,"  in  cloisters,  crypts,  etc.) 
is  restitution  to  the  mother,  with  the  certain  hope  of  res- 
urrection by  which  such  burial  is  rightfully  rewarded. 
The  animal  of  death  which  dwells  in  the  cave  had  to  be 
soothed  in  early  times  through  human  sacrifices;  later 
with  natural  gifts. ^^  Therefore,  the  Attic  custom  gives 
to  the  dead  the  fxaXirovtra,  to  pacify  the  dog  of  hell, 
the  three-headed  monster  at  the  gate  of  the  underworld. 
A  more  recent  elaboration  of  the  natural  gifts  seems  to  be 
the  obolus  for  Charon,  who  is,  therefore,  designated  by 
Rohde  as  the  second  Cerberus,  corresponding  to  the 
Egyptian  dog-faced  god  Anubis.^"  Dog  and  serpent  of 
the  underworld  (Dragon)  are  likewise  identical.  In 
the  tragedies,  the  Erinnyes  are  serpents  as  well  as  dogs; 
the  serpents  Tychon  and  Echidna  are  parents  of  the  ser- 
pents— Hydra,  the  dragon  of  the  Hesperides,  and  Gorgo; 
and  of  the  dogs,  Cerberus,  Orthrus,  Scylla.^^  Serpents 
and  dogs  are  also  protectors  of  the  treasure.  The 
chthonic  god  was  probably  always  a  serpent  dwelling  in  a 
cave,  and  was  fed  with  n^Xavoi*     In  the  Asclepiadean  of 

*Ritu,l  sacrificial  food  offered  to  the  gods. 


4o8        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

the  later  period,  the  sacred  serpents  were  scarcely  visible, 
meaning  that  they  probably  existed  only  figuratively.®* 
Nothing  was  left  but  the  hole  in  which  the  snalce  was 
said  to  dwell.  There  the  neXavoi*  were  placed;  later 
the  obolus  was  thrown  in.  The  sacred  cavern  in  the 
temple  of  Kos  consisted  of  a  rectangular  pit,  upon  which 
was  laid  a  stone  lid,  with  a  square  hole;  this  arrangement 
serves  the  purpose  of  a  treasure  house.  The  snake  hole 
had  become  a  slit  for  money,  a  "  sacrificial  box,"  and  the 
cave  had  become  a  "  treasure."  That  this  development, 
which  Herzog  traces,  agrees  excellently  with  the  actual 
condition  is  shown  by  a  discovery  in  the  temple  of  Ascle- 
pius  and  Hygieia  in  Ptolemais : 

"  An  encoiled  granite  snake,  with  arched  neck,  was  found.  In 
the  middle  of  the  coil  is  seen  a  narrow  slit,  polished  by  usage, 
just  large  enough  to  allow  a  coin  of  four  centimeters  diameter  at 
most  to  fall  through.  At  the  side  are  holes  for  handles  to  lift  the 
heavy  pieces,  the  under  half  of  which  is  used  as  a  cover." — Herzog, 
Ibid.,  p.  212. 

The  serpent,  as  protector  of  the  hoard,  now  lies  on  the 
treasure  house.  The  fear  of  the  maternal  womb  of 
death  has  become  the  guardian  of  the  treasure  of  life. 
That  the  snake  in  this  connection  is  really  a  symbol  of 
death,  that  is  to  say,  of  the  dead  libido,  results  from  the 
fact  that  the  souls  of  the  dead,  like  the  chthonic  gods,  ap- 
pear as  serpents,  as  dwellers  in  the  kingdom  of  the  mother 
of  death. ®^  This  development  of  symbol  allows  us  to  rec- 
ognize easily  the  transition  of  the  originally  very  primi- 
tive significance  of  the  crevice  in  the  earth  as  mother  to  the 

*  Ritual  sacrificial  food  offered  to  the  gods. 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  409 

meaning  of  treasure  house,  and  can,  therefore,  support  the 
etymology  of  Hort,  "  hoard,  treasure,"  as  suggested  by 
Kluge.  nevdoj,  belonging  to  nsvdo?,  means  the  innermost 
womb  of  the  earth  (Hades)  ;  nvado^,  that  Kluge  adds, 
is  of  similar  meaning,  cavity  or  womb.  Prellwitz  does 
not  mention  this  connection.  Fick,^"  however,  compares 
New  High  German  hort,  Gothic  huzd,  to  Armenian  kust, 
"abdomen";  Church  Slavonian  cista,  Vedic  kostha=^ 
abdomen,  from  the  Indo-Germanic  root  koustho  -s  = 
viscera,  lower  abdomen,  room,  store-room.  Prellwitz 
compares  xvffdo?  hv&ti^  =  unn?Lry  bladder,  bag,  purse; 
Sanskrit  kits t has  ^=  ca.v'ity  of  the  loins;  then  uvto?  = 
cavity,  vault;  hvti?  =  little  chest,  from  Hvioo  =1  am 
pregnant.  Here,  from  hvto?  =  cave,  Kvap  =  hole, 
Hvado?  =:  cup,  HvXa  :=  dcprcssion  under  the  eye, 
Hv/.ia  =■  swelling,  wave,  billow,  nvpo?  =  power,  force, 
xvpio;  =  lord,  Old  Iranian  caur,  cur  =^  hero;  Sanskrit 
gtra  -s  =  strong,  hero.  The  fundamental  Indo-Germanic 
roots  ^^  are  kevo  =  to  swell,  to  be  strong.  From  that 
the  above-mentioned  uvia),  nvap,  xvpo?  and  Latin 
cavtis  =  hollow,  vaulted,  cavity,  hole ;  cavea  =  cavity, 
enclosure,  cage,  scene  and  assembly;  caula  =  cavity^ 
opening,  enclosure,  stalP^;  ^m^'^^o  =  swell;  participle, 
kueyonts  =  swelling;  en-kueyonts  =  pregnant.  synviajv 
=  Latin  maVwj  =  pregnant;  compare  Sanskrit  vi-gvd- 
}'fl«  =  swelling;  kuro -s  (kevaro  -s),  strong,  powerful 
hero. 

The  treasure  which  the  hero  fetches  from  the  dark 
cavern  is  swelling  life;  it  is  himself,  the  hero,  new- 
born from  the  anxiety  of  pregnancy  and  the  birth  throes. 


410       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Thus  the  Hindoo  fire-brlnger  Is  called  Matarlgvan,  mean- 
ing the  one  swelling  in  the  mother.  The  hero  striving 
towards  the  mother  is  the  dragon,  and  when  he  separates 
from  the  mother  he  becomes  the  conqueror  of  the 
dragon.^^  This  train  of  thought,  which  we  have  already 
hinted  at  previously  in  Christ  and  Antichrist,  may  be 
traced  even  into  the  details  of  Christian  phantasy.  There 
is  a  series  of  mediseval  pictures  "°  in  which  the  com- 
munion cup  contains  a  dragon,  a  snake  or  some  sort  of 
small   animal. ^°^ 

The  cup  is  the  receptacle,  the  maternal  womb,  of  the 
god  resurrected  in  the  wine;  the  cup  is  the  cavern  where 
the  serpent  dwells,  the  god  who  sheds  his  skin,  in  the 
state  of  metamorphosis;  for  Christ  is  also  the  serpent. 
These  symbolisms  are  used  in  an  obscure  connection  in 
I  Corinthians,  verse  lo:  Paul  writes  of  the  Jews  who 
"  were  all  baptized  unto  Moses  in  the  cloud  and  in  the 
sea  "  (also  reborn)  and  "  did  all  drink  the  same  spiritual 
drink;  for  they  drank  of  that  spiritual  rock  that  followed 
them,  and  that  rock  was  Christ."  They  drank  from  the 
mother  (the  generative  rock,  birth  from  the  rock)  the 
milk  of  rejuvenation,  the  mead  of  immortality,  and  this 
Rock  was  Christ,  here  identified  with  the  mother,  because 
he  is  the  symbolic  representative  of  the  mother  libido. 
When  we  drink  from  the  cup,  then  we  drink  from  the 
mother's  breast  immortality  and  everlasting  salvation. 
Paul  wrote  of  the  Jews  that  they  ate  and  then  rose  up 
to  dance  and  to  indulge  in  fornication,  and  then  twenty- 
three  thousand  of  them  were  swept  off  by  the  plague  of 
serpents.     The  remedy  for  the  survivors,  however,  was 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  411 

the  sight  of  a  serpent  hanging  on  a  pole.     From  it  was 
derived  the  cure. 

"  The  cup  of  blessing  which  we  bless,  is  it  not  the  communion  of 
the  blood  of  Christ?  The  bread  which  we  break,  is  it  not  the 
communion  of  the  body  of  Christ?  For  we  being  many  are  one 
bread,  and  one  body;  for  we  are  all  partakers  of  one  bread." — 
/  Corinthians  x:  16,  17. 

Bread  and  wine  are  the  body  and  the  blood  of  Christ; 
the  food  of  the  immortals  who  are  brothers  with  Christ, 
ddsXcpoi,  those  who  come  from  the  same  womb.  We 
who  are  reborn  again  from  the  mother  are  all  heroes 
together  with  Christ,  and  enjoy  immortal  food.  As  with 
the  Jews,  so  too  with  the  Christians,  there  is  imminent 
danger  of  unworthy  partaking,  for  this  mystery,  which  is 
very  closely  related  psychologically  with  the  subterranean 
Hierosgamos  of  Eleusis,  involves  a  mysterious  union  of 
man  in  a  spiritual  sense, ^°"  which  was  constantly  misun- 
derstood by  the  profane  and  was  retranslated  into  his 
language,  where  mystery  is  equivalent  to  orgy  and 
secrecy  to  vice.^°^  A  very  interesting  blasphemer  and  sec- 
tarian of  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century  named 
Unternahrer  has  made  the  following  comment  on  the 
last  supper : 

"  The  communion  of  the  devil  is  in  this  brothel.  All  they  sac- 
rifice here,  they  sacrifice  to  the  devil  and  not  to  God.  There  they 
have  the  devil's  cup  and  the  devil's  dish ;  there  they  have  sucked 
the  head  of  the  snakej^^*  there  they  have  fed  upon  the  iniquitous 
bread  and  drunken  the  wine  of  wickedness."  ^°^ 

Unternahrer  is  an  adherent  or  a  forerunner  of  the 
"  theory  of  living  one's  own  nature."  He  dreams  of  him- 
self as  a  sort  of  priapic  divinity;  he  says  of  himself: 


412       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

"  Black-haired,  very  charming  and  handsome  in  countenance, 
and  every  one  enjoys  listening  to  thee  on  account  of  the  amiable 
speeches  which  come  from  thy  mouth;  therefore  the  maids  love 
thee." 

He  preaches  "  the  cult  of  nakedness." 

"  Ye  fools  and  blind  men,  behold  God  has  created  man  in  his 
image,  as  male  and  female,  and  has  blessed  them  and  said,  '  Be 
fruitful  and  multiply  and  fill  the  earth,  and  make  it  subject  to 
thee.'  Therefore,  he  has  given  the  greatest  honor  to  these  poor 
members  and  has  placed  them  naked  in  the  garden,"  etc. 

"  Now  are  the  fig  leaves  and  the  covering  removed,  because 
thou  hast  turned  to  the  Lord,  for  the  Lord  is  the  Spirit,  and  where 
the  spirit  of  the  Lord  is,  there  is  freedom,^"®  there  the  clearness 
of  the  Lord  is  mirrored  with  uncovered  countenance.  This  is 
precious  before  God,  and  this  is  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  and  the 
adornment  of  our  God,  when  you  stand  in  the  image  and  honor 
of  570ur  God,  as  God  created  you,  naked  and  not  ashamed. 

"  Who  can  ever  praise  sufficiently  in  the  sons  and  daughters 
of  the  living  God  those  parts  of  the  body  which  are  destined  to 
procreate  ? 

"  In  the  lap  of  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  is  the  gate  of  the 
Lord,  and  the  Just  will  go  into  the  temple  there,  to  the  altar."^ 
And  in  the  lap  of  the  sons  of  the  living  God  is  the  water-pipe  of 
the  upper  part,  which  is  a  tube,  like  a  rod,  to  measure  the  temple 
and  altar.  And  under  the  water-tube  the  sacred  stones  are  placed, 
as  a  sign  and  testimony  of  the  Lord,  who  has  taken  to  himself  the 
seed  of  Abraham. 

"  Out  of  the  seeds  in  the  chamber  of  the  mother,  God  creates 
a  man  with  his  hands,  as  an  image  of  himself.  Then  the  mother 
house  and  the  mother  chamber  is  opened  in  the  daughters  of  the 
Living  God,  and  God  himself  brings  forth  a  child  through  them. 
Thus  God  creates  children  from  the  stones,  for  the  seed  comes 
from  the  stones."  ^"^ 

History  teaches  in  manifold  examples  how  the  religious 
mysteries  are  liable  to  change  suddenly  into  sexual  orgies 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  413 

because  they  have  originated  from  an  overvaluation  of  the 
orgy.  It  is  characteristic  that  this  priapic  divinity  ^°^  re- 
turns again  to  the  old  symbol  of  the  snake,  which  in  the 
mystery  enters  into  the  faithful,  fertilizing  and  spiritual- 
izing them,  although  it  originally  possessed  a  phallic  sig- 
nificance. In  the  mysteries  of  the  Ophites,  the  festival 
was  really  celebrated  with  serpents,  in  which  the  animals 
were  even  kissed.  (Compare  the  caressing  of  the  snake 
of  Demeter  in  the  Eleusinian  mysteries.)  In  the  sexual 
orgies  of  the  modern  Christian  sects  the  phallic  kiss  plays 
a  very  Important  role.  Unternahrer  was  an  uncultivated, 
crazy  peasant,  and  it  is  unlikely  that  the  Ophitic  religious 
ceremonies  were  known  to  him. 

The  phallic  significance  is  expressed  negatively  or  mys- 
teriously through  the  serpent,  which  always  points  to  a 
secret  related  thought.  This  related  thought  connects 
with  the  mother;  thus,  in  a  dream  a  patient  found  the 
following  imagery :  "  A  serpent  shot  out  from  a  moist 
cave  and  bit  the  dreamer  In  the  region  of  the  genitals." 
This  dream  took  place  at  the  instant  when  the  patient 
was  convinced  of  the  truth  of  the  analysis,  and  began 
to  free  himself  from  the  bond  of  his  mother  complex. 
The  meaning  Is :  I  am  convinced  that  I  am  inspired  and 
poisoned  by  the  mother.  The  contrary  manner  of  ex- 
pression is  characteristic  of  the  dream.  At  the  moment 
when  he  felt  the  impulse  to  go  forwards  he  perceived  the 
attachment  to  the  mother.  Another  patient  had  the  fol- 
lowing dream  during  a  relapse,  in  which  the  libido  was 
again  wholly  introverted  for  a  time:  "She  was  entirely 
filled  within  by  a  great  snake;  only  one  end  of  the  tail 


414       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

peeped  out  from  her  arm.  She  wanted  to  seize  It,  but  It 
escaped  her."  A  patient  with  a  very  strong  Introversion 
(catatonic  state)  complained  to  me  that  a  snake  was 
stuck  In  her  throat.""  This  symbohsm  Is  also  used  by 
Nietzsche  In  the  "  vision "  of  the  shepherd  and  the 
snake  :  "^ 

"  And  verily,  what  I  saw  was  like  nothing  I  ever  saw  before. 
I  saw  a  young  shepherd,  writhing,  choking,  twitching  with  a  con- 
vulsed face,  from  whose  mouth  hung  a  black,  heavy  serpent. 

"  Did  I  ever  see  so  much  disgust  and  pallid  fear  upon  a  counte- 
nance?^^- Might  he  have  been  sleeping,  and  the  snake  crept 
into  his  mouth — there  it  bit  him  fast? 

"  My  hand  tore  at  the  serpent  and  tore — in  vain ! — I  failed  to 
tear  the  serpent  out  of  his  mouth.  Then  there  cried  out  of  me: 
'  Bite!  Bite!  Its  head  off!  Bite!  '  I  exclaimed;  all  my  horror, 
my  hate,  my  disgust,  my  compassion,  all  the  good  and  bad  cried 
out  from  me  in  one  voice, 

"  Ye  intrepid  ones  around  me!  solve  for  me  the  riddle  which  I 
saw,  make  clear  to  me  the  vision  of  the  lonesomest  one. 

"  For  it  was  a  vision  and  a  prophecy ;  what  did  then  I  behold 
in  parable  ?    And  who  is  it  who  is  still  to  come  ? 

"  Who  is  the  shepherd  into  whose  mouth  crept  the  snake?  Who 
is  the  man  into  whose  throat  all  the  heaviness  and  the  blackest 
would  creep?  ^^^ 

"  But  the  shepherd  bit,  as  my  cry  had  told  him;  he  bit  with  a 
huge  bite!  Far  away  did  he  spit  the  head  of  the  serpent — and 
sprang  up. 

"  No  longer  shepherd,  no  longer  man,  a  transfigured  being,  an 
illuminated  being,  who  laughed!  Never  yet  on  earth  did  a  man 
laugh  as  he  laughed ! 

"  O  my  brethren,  I  heard  a  laugh  which  was  no  human 
laughter — and  now  a  thirst  consumeth  me,  a  longing  that  is  never 
allayed. 

"  My  longing  for  this  laugh  eats  into  me.  Oh,  how  can  I 
suffer  still  to  live!    And  how  now  can  I  bear  to  die!  "  "* 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  415 

The  snake  represents  the  introverting  libido.  Through 
introversion  one  is  fertilized,  inspired,  regenerated  and 
reborn  from  the  God.  In  Hindoo  philosophy  this  idea  of 
creative,  intellectual  activity  has  even  cosmogenic  signifi- 
cance. The  unknown  original  creator  of  all  things  is,  ac- 
cording to  Rigveda  10,  121,  Prajapati,  the  "Lord  of 
Creation."  In  the  various  Brahmas,  his  cosmogenic 
activity  was  depicted  in  the  following  manner 

"  Prajapati  desired :  '  I  will  procreate  myself,  I  will  be  manifold.' 
He  performed  Tapas;  after  he  had  performed  Tapas  he  created 
these  worlds." 

The  strange  conception  of  Tapas  is  to  be  translated, 
according  to  Deussen,^^^  as  *'  he  heated  himself  with  his 
own  heat,^"  with  the  sense  of  '  he  brooded,  he  hatched.'  " 
Here  the  hatcher  and  the  hatched  are  not  two,  but  one 
and  the  same  identical  being.  As  Hiranyagarbha, 
Prajapati  is  the  egg  produced  from  himself,  the  world- 
egg,  from  which  he  hatches  himself.  He  creeps  into  him- 
self, he  becomes  his  own  uterus,  becomes  pregnant  with 
himself,  in  order  to  give  birth  to  the  world  of  multiplic- 
ity. Thus  Prajapati  through  the  way  of  introversion 
changed  into  something  new,  the  multiplicity  of  the  world. 
It  is  of  especial  interest  to  note  how  the  most  remote 
things  come  into  contact.    Deussen  observes : 

"  In  the  degree  that  the  conception  of  Tapas  (heat)  becomes  in 
hot  India  the  symbol  of  exertion  and  distress,  the  *  tapo  atapyata  ' 
began  to  assume  the  meaning  of  self-castigation  and  became  related 
to  the  idea  that  creation  is  an  act  of  self-renunciation  on  the  part 
of  the  Creator." 


4i6        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Self-incubation  and  self-castigation  and  introversion 
are  very  closely  connected  ideas. ^"  The  Zosimos  vision 
mentioned  above  betrays  the  same  train  of  thought,  where 
it  is  said  of  the  place  of  transformation:  oroTto?  rfj? 
affKTJffSGi}?.*  We  have  already  observed  that  the  place 
of  transformation  is  really  the  uterus.  Absorption  in 
one's  self  (introversion)  is  an  entrance  into  one's  own 
uterus,  and  also  at  the  same  time  asceticism.  In  the 
philosophy  of  the  Brahmans  the  world  arose  from  this 
activity;  among  the  post-Christian  Gnostics  it  produced 
the  revival  and  spiritual  rebirth  of  the  individual,  who 
was  born  into  a  new  spiritual  world.  The  Hindoo  philoso- 
phy is  considerably  more  daring  and  logical,  and  assumes 
that  creation  results  from  introversion  in  general,  as  in 
the  wonderful  hymn  of  Rigveda,  lo,  29,  it  is  said: 

"  What  was  hidden  in  the  shell, 
Was  born  through  the  power  of  fiery  torments. 
From  this  first  arose  love, 
As  the  germ  of  knowledge, 

The  wise  found  the  roots  of  existence  in  non-existence, 
By  investigating  the  heart's  impulses."  "^ 

This  philosophical  view  interprets  the  world  as  an 
emanation  of  the  libido,  and  this  must  be  widely  accepted 
from  the  theoretic  as  well  as  the  psychologic  standpoint, 
for  the  function  of  reality  is  an  instinctive  function,  hav- 
ing the  character  of  biological  adaptation.  When  the  in- 
sane Schreber  brought  about  the  end  of  the  world  through 
his  libido-introversion,  he  expressed  an  entirely  rational 
psychologic  view,  just  as  Schopenhauer  wished  to  abolish 

*  The  place  of  discipline. 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  417 

through  negation  (holiness,  asceticism)  the  error  of  the 
primal  will,  through  which  the  world  was  created.  Does 
not  Goethe  say: 

"  You  follow  a  false  trail ; 
Do  not  think  that  we  are  not  serious; 
Is  not  the  kernel  of  nature 
In  the  hearts  of  men?  " 

The  hero,  who  is  to  accomplish  the  rejuvenation  of 
the  world  and  the  conquest  of  death,  is  the  libido,  which, 
brooding  upon  itself  in  introversion,  coiling  as  a  snake 
around  its  own  egg,  apparently  threatens  life  with  a  poi- 
sonous bite.  In  order  to  lead  it  to  death,  and  from  that 
darkness,  conquering  itself,  gives  birth  to  itself  again. 
Nietzsche  knows  this  conception :  "^ 

"  How  long  have  you  sat  already  upon  your  misfortune. 
Give  heed !  lest  you  hatch  an  egg, 
A  basilisk  egg 
Of  your  long  travail." 

The  hero  is  himself  a  serpent,  himself  a  sacrificer  and 
a  sacrificed.  The  hero  himself  is  of  serpent  nature; 
therefore,  Christ  compares  himself  with  the  serpent; 
therefore,  the  redeeming  principle  of  the  world  of  that 
Gnostic  sect  which  styled  itself  the  Ophite  was  the  ser- 
pent. The  serpent  is  the  Agatho  and  Kako  demon.  It 
is,  indeed,  intelligible,  when,  In  the  Germanic  saga,  they 
say  that  the  heroes  had  serpents'  eyes.^^°  I  recall  the 
parallel  previously  drawn  between  the  eyes  of  the  Son  of 
man  and  those  of  the  Tarpeian  dragon.  In  the  already 
mentioned  medieval  pictures,  the  dragon,  instead  of  the 


I 


4i8        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UxNCONSCIOUS 

Lord,  appeared  in  the  cup ;  the  dragon  who  with  changeful, 
serpent  glances  ^"^  guarded  the  divine  mystery  of  renewed 
rebirth  in  the  maternal  womb.  In  Nietzsche  the  old,  ap- 
parently long  extinct  idea  is  again  revived :  ^" 

"  Aihng  with  tenderness,  just  as  the  thawing  wind, 
Zarathustra  sits  waiting,  waiting  on  his  hill, 
Sweetened  and  cooked  in  his  own  juice, 
Beneath  his  summits, 
Beneath  his  ice  he  sits, 
Weary  and  happy, 
A  Creator  on  his  seventh  day. 
Silence ! 
It  is  my  truth ! 
From  hesitating  eyes — 
From  velvety  shadows 
Her  glance  meets  mine. 
Lovely,  mischievous,  the  glance  of  a  girl. 
She  divines  the  reason  of  my  happiness, 
She  divines  me — ha!  what  is  she  plotting? 
A  purple  dragon  lurks 
In  the  abyss  of  her  maiden  glance.^^^ 
Woe  to  thee,  Zarathustra, 
Thou  seemest  like  some  one 
Who  has  swallowed  gold, 
Thy  belly  will  be  slit  open."  ^-* 

In  this  poem  nearly  all  the  symbolism  is  collected  which 
we  have  elaborated  previously  from  other  connections. 
Distinct  traces  of  the  primitive  identity  of  serpent  and 
hero  are  still  extant  in  the  myth  of  Cecrops.  Cecrops 
is  himself  half-snake,  half-man.  Originally,  he  probably 
was  the  Athenian  snake  of  the  citadel  itself.  As  a  buried 
god,  he  is  like  Erechtheus,  a  chthonic  snake  god.  Above 
his  subterranean  dwelling  rises  the  Parthenon,  the  temple 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  419 

of  the  virgin  goddess  (compare  the  analogous  idea  of  the 
Christian  church).  The  casting  of  the  skin  of  the  god, 
which  we  have  already  mentioned  in  passing,  stands  in 
the  closest  relation  to  the  nature  of  the  hero.  We  have 
spoken  already  of  the  Mexican  god  who  casts  his  skin. 
It  is  also  told  of  Mani,  the  founder  of  the  Manichaean 
sect,  that  he  was  killed,  skinned,  stuffed  and  hung  up.'^^ 
That  is  the  death  of  Christ,  merely  in  another  mytho- 
logical form.^'** 

Marsyas,  who  seems  to  be  a  substitute  for  Attis,  the 
son-lover  of  Cybele,  was  also  skinned. ^"^  Whenever  a 
Scythian  king  died,  slaves  and  horses  were  slaughtered, 
skinned  and  stuffed,  and  then  set  up  again. ^"^  In  Phrygia, 
the  representatives  of  the  father-god  were  killed  and 
skinned.  The  same  was  done  in  Athens  with  an  ox,  who 
was  skinned  and  stuffed  and  again  hitched  to  the  plough. 

In  this  manner  the  revival  of  the  fertility  of  the  earth 
was  celebrated.^^^ 

This  readily  explains  the  fragment  from  the  Sabazios 
mysteries,  transmitted  to  us  by  Firmicus:  "•*  Tavpo?dpa- 
KovTO?  xai  Tcarrifi  ravpov  dpaxoov*. 

The  active  fructifying  (upward  striving)  form  of  the 
libido  is  changed  into  the  negative  force  striving  down- 
wards towards  death.  The  hero  as  zodion  of  spring 
(ram,  bull)  conquers  the  depths  of  winter;  and  beyond 
the  summer  solstice  is  attacked  by  the  unconscious  long- 
ing for  death,  and  is  bitten  by  the  snake.  However,  he 
himself  is  the  snake.  But  he  is  at  war  with  himself,  and, 
therefore,  the  descent  and  the  end  appear  to  him  as  the 

*  The  bull,  father  of  the  serpent,  and  the  serpent,  father  of  the  bull. 


V 


420       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

malicious  inventions  of  the  mother  of  death,  who  in  this 
way  wishes  to  draw  him  to  herself.  The  mysteries,  how- 
ever, consolingly  promise  that  there  is  no  contradiction  ^^^ 
or  disharmony  when  life  is  changed  into  death:  ravpoi 
dpaHOVTO?  Jiai  narrfp  ravpov  SpaKOOV. 

Nietzsche,  too,  gives  expression  to  this  mystery:"^ 

"  Here  do  I  sit  noWj 
That  is,  I'm  swallowed  down 
By  this  the  smallest  oasis — 
— It  opened  up  just  yawning, 
Its  loveliest  maw  agape. 
Hail!  hail!  to  that  whalefish, 
When  he  for  his  guests'  welfare 
Provided  thus! 

Hail  to  his  belly 

If  he  had  also 

Such  a  lovely  oasis  belly — 

The  desert  grows,  woe  to  him 

Who  hides  the  desert! 

Stone  grinds  on  stone,  the  desert 

Gulps  and  strangles. 

The  monstrous  death  gazes,  glowing  brown, 

And  chews — his  life  is  his  chewing  .  .  . 

Forget  not,  O  man,  burnt  out  by  lust, 

Thou  art  the  stone,  the  desert, 

Thou  art  death!" 

The  serpent  symbolism  of  the  Last  Supper  is  explained 
by  the  identification  of  the  hero  with  the  serpent:  The 
god  is  buried  in  the  mother:  as  fruit  of  the  field,  as  food 
coming  from  the  mother  and  at  the  same  time  as  drink 
of  immortality  he  is  received  by  the  mystic,  or  as  a  ser- 
pent he  unites  with  the  mystic.     All  these  symbols  rep- 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  421 

resent  the  liberation  of  the  libido  from  the  incestuous 
fixation  through  which  new  life  is  attained.  The  libera- 
tion is  accomplished  under  symbols,  which  represent  the 
activity  of  the  incest  wish. 

It  might  be  justifiable  at  this  place  to  cast  a  glance 
upon  psychoanalysis  as  a  method  of  treatment.  In  prac- 
tical analysis  it  is  important,  first  of  all,  to  discover  the 
libido  lost  from  the  control  of  consciousness.  (It  often 
happens  to  the  libido  as  with  the  fish  of  Moses  in  the 
Mohammedan  legend;  it  sometimes  "takes  its  course  In 
a  marvellous  manner  into  the  sea.")  Freud  says  in  his 
important  article,  "  Zur  Dynamik  der  Ubertragung  " :  ^^^ 

"  The  libido  has  retreated  into  regression  and  again  revives  the 
infantile  images." 

This  means,  mythologically,  that  the  sun  is  devoured 
by  the  serpent  of  the  night,  the  treasure  is  concealed  and 
guarded  by  the  dragon :  substitution  of  a  present  mode 
of  adaptation  by  an  infantile  mode,  which  is  represented 
by  the  corresponding  neurotic  symptoms.  Freud  con- 
tinues : 

"  Thither  the  analytic  treatment  follows  it  and  endeavors  to 
seek  out  the  libido  again,  to  render  it  accessible  to  consciousness, 
and  finally  to  make  it  serviceable  to  reality.  Whenever  the 
analytic  investigation  touches  upon  the  libido,  withdrawn  into  its 
hiding-place,  a  struggle  must  break  out;  all  the  forces,  which  have 
caused  the  regression  of  the  libido,  will  rise  up  as  resistance  against 
the  work,  in  order  to  preserve  this  new  condition." 

Mythologically  this  means :  the  hero  seeks  the  lost  sun, 
the  fire,  the  virgin  sacrifice,  or  the  treasure,  and  fights  the 


I 


.422        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

typical  fight  with  the  dragon,  with  the  libido  in  resistance. 
As  these  parallels  show,  psychoanalysis  mobiles  a  part  of 
the  life  processes,  the  fundamental  importance  of  which 
properly  illustrates  the  significance  of  this  process. 

After  Siegfried  has  slain  the  dragon,  he  meets  the 
father,  Wotan,  plagued  by  gloomy  cares,  for  the  primi- 
tive mother,  Erda,  has  placed  in  his  path  the  snake,  in 
order  to  enfeeble  his  sun.    He  says  to  Erda : 

Wanderer: 
All-wise  one, 

Care's  piercing  sting  by  thee  was  planted 
In  Wotan's  dauntless  heart 
With  fear  of  shameful  ruin  and  downfall. 
Filled  was  his  spirit  by  tidings 
Thou  didst  foretell. 

Art  thou  the  world's  wisest  of  women? 
Tell  to  me  now 
How  a  god  may  conquer  his  care. 

Erda : 

Thou  art  not 
What  thou  hast  said. 

It  is  the  same  primitive  motive  which  we  meet  in 
Wagner:  the  mother  has  robbed  her  son,  the  sun-god,  of 
the  joy  of  life,  through  a  poisonous  thorn,  and  deprives 
him  of  his  power,  which  is  connected  with  the  name.  Isis 
demands  the  name  of  the  god;  Erda  says,  "  Thou  art  not 
what  thou  hast  said."  But  the  "  Wanderer  "  has  found 
the  way  to  conquer  the  fatal  charm  of  the  mother,  the 
fear  of  death: 

"  The  eternals'  downfall 
No  more  dismays  me, 
Since  their  doom  I  willed. 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  423 

"  I  leave  to  thee,  loveliest  Walsung, 
Gladly  my  heritage  now. 
To  the  ever-young 
In  gladness  yieldeth  the  god !  " 

These  wise  words  contain,  in  fact,  the  saving  thought. 
It  is  not  the  mother  who  has  placed  the  poisonous  worm 
in  our  path,  but  our  libido  itself  wills  to  complete  the 
course  of  the  sun  to  mount  from  morn  to  noon,  and,  pass- 
ing beyond  noon,  to  hasten  towards  evening,  not  at  war 
with  itself,  but  willing  the  descent  and  the  end.^^* 

Nietzsche's  Zarathustra  teaches: 

"  I  praise  thee,  my  death,  the  free  death,  which  comes  to  me  be- 
cause I  want  it. 

"  And  when  shall  I  want  it? 

"  He  who  has  a  goal  and  an  heir  wants  death  at  the  proper 
time  for  his  goal  and  his  heir. 

"  And  this  is  the  great  noonday,  when  man  in  the  middle  of 
his  course  stands  between  man  and  superman,  and  celebrates  his 
path  towards  evening  as  his  highest  hope:  because  it  is  the  path  to 
a  new  morning. 

"  He  who  is  setting  will  bless  his  own  going  down  because  it 
is  a  transition:  and  the  sun  of  his  knowledge  will  be  at  high  noon." 

Siegfried  conquers  the  father  Wotan  and  takes  posses- 
sion of  Brunhilde.  The  first  object  that  he  sees  is  her 
horse;  then  he  believes  that  he  beholds  a  mail-clad  man. 
He  cuts  to  pieces  the  protecting  coat  of  mail  of  the 
sleeper.  (Overpowering.)  When  he  sees  it  is  a  woman, 
terror  seizes  him: 

"  My  heart  doth  falter  and  faint; 
On  whom  shall  I  call 
That  he  may  help  me  ? 


424       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Mother!    Mother! 
Remember  me! 

"  Can  this  be  fearing? 
Oh,  mother !    Mother ! 
Thy  dauntless  child! 
A  woman  lieth  asleep: — 
And  she  now  has  taught  him  to  fear! 

"  Awaken !    Awaken ! 
Holiest  maid! 

Then  life  from  the  sweetness  of  lips 
Will  I  win  me — 
E'en  tho'  I  die  in  a  kiss." 

In  the  duet  which  follows  the  mother  is  invoked : 

"  O  mother,  hail! 
Who  gave  thee  thy  birth !  " 

The  confession  of  Brunhilde  is  especially  characteristic: 

"  O  knewest  thou — joy  of  the  world, 
How  I  have  ever  loved  thee! 
Thou  wert  my  gladness, 
My  care  wert  thou! 
Thy  life  I  sheltered ; 
Or  ere  it  was  thine, 
Or  ere  thou  wert  born. 
My  shield  was  thy  guard."  '" 

The  pre-existence  of  the  hero  and  the  pre-existence  of 
Brunhilde  as  his  wife-mother  are  clearly  indicated  from 
this  passage. 

Siegfried  says  in  confirmation : 

"  Then  death  took  not  my  mother? 
Bound  in  sleep  did  she  lie?  " 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  425 

The  mother-imago,  which  is  the  symbol  of  the  dying 
and  resurrected  Kbido,  is  explained  by  Brunhilde  to  the 
hero,  as  his  own  will : 

"  Thyself  am  I 
If  blest  I  be  in  thy  love." 

The  great  mystery  of  the  Logos  entering  into  the 
mother  for  rebirth  is  proclaimed  with  the  following  words 
by  Brunhilde : 

"  O  Siegfried,  Siegfried, 
Conquering  light! 
I  loved  thee  ever, 
For  I  divined 

The  thought  that  Wotan  had  hidden — ■ 
The  thought  that  I  dared 
Not  to  whisper —  ''° 
That  all  unclearly 
Glowed  in  my  bosom 
Suffered  and  strove; 
For  which  I  flouted 
Him,  who  conceived  it:'" 
For  which  in  penance 
Prisoned  I  lay, 
While  thinking  it  not 
And  feeling  only. 
For,  in  my  thought. 
Oh,  should  you  guess  it? 
Was  only  my  love  for  thee." 

The  erotic  similes  which  now  follow  distinctly  reveal 
the  motive  of  rebirth : 

Siegfried: 

A  glorious  flood 
Before  me  rolls. 


L 


426       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

With  all  my  senses 

I  only  see 

Its  buoyant,  gladdening  billows. 

Though  in  the  deep 

I  find  not  my  face, 

Burning,  I  long 

For  the  water's  balm; 

And  now  as  I  am, 

Spring  in  the  stream. ^'^^ 

O  might  its  billows 

Engulf  me  in  bliss." 

The  motive  of  plunging  into  the  maternal  water  of  re- 
birth (baptism)  is  here  fully  developed.  An  allusion  to 
the  "  terrible  mother  "  Imago,  the  mother  of  heroes,  who 
teaches  them  fear,  is  to  be  found  in  Brunhllde's  words 
(the  horse-woman,  who  guides  the  dead  to  the  other 
side)  : 

"  Fearest  thou,  Siegfried? 
Fearest  thou  not 
The  wild,  furious  woman?" 

The  orgiastic  "  Occide  moriturus "  resounds  in  Brun- 
hilde's  words : 

'*  Laughing  let  us  be  lost — 
Laughing  go  down  to  death ! '' 

And  in  the  words 

"  Light-giving  love. 
Laughing  death !  " 

is  to  be  found  the  same  significant  contrast. 

The  further  destinies  of  Siegfried  are  those  of  the  In- 


THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  427 

victus :  the  spear  of  the  gloomy,  one-eyed  Hagen  strikes 
Siegfried's  vulnerable  spot.  The  old  sun,  who  has  become 
the  god  of  death,  the  one-eyed  Wotan,  smites  his  off- 
spring, and  once  again  ascends  in  eternal  rejuvenation. 
The  course  of  the  invincible  sun  has  supplied  the  mystery 
of  human  life  with  beautiful  and  imperishable  symbols;  it 
became  a  comforting  fulfilment  of  all  the  yearning  for 
immortality,  of  all  desire  of  mortals  for  eternal  life. 

Man  leaves  the  mother,  the  source  of  libido,  and  is 
driven  by  the  eternal  thirst  to  find  her  again,  and  to  drink 
renewal  from  her;  thus  he  completes  his  cycle,  and  re- 
turns again  into  the  mother's  womb.  Every  obstacle 
which  obstructs  his  life's  path,  and  threatens  his  ascent, 
wears  the  shadowy  features  of  the  "  terrible  mother," 
who  paralyzes  his  energy  with  the  consuming  poison  of 
the  stealthy,  retrospective  longing.  In  each  conquest  he 
wins  again  the  smiling  love  and  life-giving  mother — 
images  which  belong  to  the  intuitive  depths  of  human  feel- 
ing, the  features  of  which  have  become  mutilated  and 
irrecognizable  through  the  progressive  development  of 
the  surface  of  the  human  mind.  The  stern  necessity  of 
adaptation  works  ceaselessly  to  obliterate  the  last  traces 
of  these  primitive  landmarks  of  the  period  of  the  origin 
of  the  human  mind,  and  to  replace  them  along  lines 
which  are  to  denote  more  and  more  clearly  the  nature  of 
real  objects. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  SACRIFICE 

After  this  long  digression,  let  us  return  to  Miss  Mil- 
ler's vision.  We  can  now  answer  the  question  as  to 
the  significance  of  Siegfried's  longing  for  Brunhilde.  It 
is  the  striving  of  the  libido  away  from  the  mother 
towards  the  mother.  This  paradoxical  sentence  may  be 
translated  as  follows:  as  long  as  the  libido  is  satisfied 
merely  with  phantasies,  it  moves  in  itself,  in  its  own 
depths,  in  the  mother.^  When  the  longing  of  our  author 
rises  in  order  to  escape  the  magic  circle  of  the  incestuous 
and,  therefore,  pernicious,  object,  and  it  does  not  succeed 
in  finding  reality,  then  the  object  is  and  remains  irrevo- 
cably the  mother.  Only  the  overcoming  of  the  obstacles 
of  reality  brings  the  deliverance  from  the  mother,  who  is 
the  continuous  and  inexhaustible  source  of  life  for  the 
creator,  but  death  for  the  cowardly,  timid  and  sluggish. 

Whoever  is  acquainted  with  psychoanalysis  knows  how 
often  neurotics  cry  out  against  their  parents.  To  be  sure, 
such  complaints  and  reproaches  are  often  justified  on  ac- 
count of  the  common  human  imperfections,  but  still  more 
often  they  are  reproaches  which  should  really  be  directed 
towards  themselves.  Reproach  and  hatred  are  always 
futile  attempts  to  free  one's  self  apparently  from  the  par- 
ents, but  in  reality  from  one's  own  hindering  longing  for 

428 


THE  SACRIFICE  429 

the  parents.  Our  author  proclaims  through  the  mouth 
of  her  infantile  hero  Chiwantopel  a  series  of  insults 
against  her  own  family.  We  can  assume  that  she  must 
renounce  all  these  tendencies,  because  they  contain  an  un- 
recognized wish.  This  hero,  of  many  words,  who  per- 
forms few  deeds  and  indulges  in  futile  yearnings,  is  the 
libido  which  has  not  fulfilled  its  destiny,  but  which  turns 
round  and  round  in  the  kingdom  of  the  mother,  and,  in 
spite  of  all  its  longing,  accomplishes  nothing.  Only  he 
can  break  this  magic  circle  who  possesses  the  courage  of 
the  will  to  live  and  the  heroism  to  carry  it  through. 
Could  this  yearning  hero-youth,  Chiwantopel,  but  put  an 
end  to  his  existence,  he  would  probably  rise  again  in  the 
form  of  a  brave  man  seeking  real  life.  This  necessity 
imposes  itself  upon  the  dreamer  as  a  wise  counsel  and 
hint  of  the  unconscious  in  the  following  monologue  of 
Chiwantopel.    He  cries  sadly : 

"  In  all  the  world,  there  is  not  a  single  one!  I  have  sought 
among  a  hundred  tribes.  I  have  watched  a  hundred  moons,  since 
I  began.  Can  it  be  that  there  is  not  a  solitary  being  who  will 
ever  know  my  soul?  Yes,  by  the  sovereign  God,  yes!  But  ten 
thousand  moons  will  wax  and  wane  before  that  pure  soul  is  born. 
And  it  is  from  another  world  that  her  parents  will  come  to  this 
one.  She  will  have  pale  skin  and  pale  locks.  She  will  know  sor- 
row before  her  mother  bears  her.  Suffering  will  accompany  her; 
she  will  seek  also,  and  she  will  find,  no  one  who  understands  her. 
Temptation  will  often  assail  her  soul — but  she  will  not  yield. 
In  her  dreams,  I  will  come  to  her,  and  she  will  understand.  /  have 
kept  my  body  inviolate.  I  have  come  ten  thousand  moons  before 
her  epoch,  and  she  will  come  ten  thousand  moons  too  late.  But 
she  will  understand!  There  is  only  once  in  all  the  ten  thousand 
moons  that  a  soul  like  hers  is  born." 


430       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Thereupon  a  green  serpent  darts  from  the  hushes, 
glides  towards  him  and  stings  him  on  the  arm,  then  at- 
tacks the  horse,  which  succumbs  first.  Then  Chiwantopel 
says  to  his  horse : 

"  'Adieu,  faithful  brother!  Enter  into  rest!  I  have  loved  you, 
and  you  have  served  me  well.  Adieu.  Soon  I  will  rejoin  you! ' 
Then  to  the  snake :  '  Thanks,  little  sister,  you  have  put  an  end  to 
my  wanderings.' " 

Then  he  cried  with  grief  and  spoke  his  prayer: 

"  '  Sovereign  God,  take  me  soon !  I  have  tried  to  know  thee, 
and  to  keep  thy  law!  O,  do  not  suffer  my  body  to  fall  into  cor- 
ruption and  decay,  and  to  furnish  the  vultures  with  food !  '  A 
smoking  crater  is  perceived  at  a  distance,  the  rumbling  of  an 
earthquake  is  heard,  followed  by  a  trembling  of  the  ground." 

Chiwantopel  cries  in  the  delirium  of  suffering,  while 
the  earth  covers  his  body : 

"  I  have  kept  my  body  inviolate.  Ah!  She  understands.  Ja- 
ni-wa-ma,  Ja-ni-wa-ma,  thou  who  comprehendeth  me." 

Chiwantopel's  prophecy  is  a  repetition  of  Longfellow's 
"  Hiawatha,"  where  the  poet  could  not  escape  sentimen- 
tality, and  at  the  close  of  the  career  of  the  hero,  Hia- 
watha, he  brings  in  the  Savior  of  the  white  people,  in  the 
guise  of  the  arriving  illustrious  representatives  of  the 
Christian  religion  and  morals.  (One  thinks  of  the  work 
of  redemption  of  the  Spaniards  in  Mexico  and  Peru!) 
With  this  prophecy  of  Chiwantopel,  the  personality  of  the 
author  is  again  placed  in  the  closest  relation  to  the  hero, 
and,  indeed,  as  the  real  object  of  Chiwantopel's  longing. 


THE  SACRIFICE  431 

Most  certainly  the  hero  would  have  married  her,  had  she 
lived  at  his  time;  but,  unfortunately,  she  comes  too  late. 
The  connection  proves  our  previous  assertion  that  the 
libido  moves  round  in  a  circle.  The  author  loves  herself; 
that  Is  to  say,  she,  as  the  hero,  Is  sought  by  one  who  comes 
too  late.  This  motive  of  coming  too  late  is  characteristic 
of  the  infantile  love :  the  father  and  the  mother  can- 
not be  overtaken.  The  separation  of  the  two  personal- 
ities by  ten  thousand  moons  Is  a  wish  fulfilment;  with  that 
the  incest  relation  is  annulled  In  an  effectual  manner. 
This  white  heroine  will  seek  without  being  understood. 
(She  Is  not  understood,  because  she  cannot  understand 
herself  rightly.)  And  she  will  not  find.  But  In  dreams, 
at  least,  they  will  find  each  other,  "  and  she  will  under- 
stand."   The  next  sentence  of  the  text  reads: 

"  I  have  kept  my  body  inviolate." 

This  proud  sentence,  which  naturally  only  a  woman  can 
express,  because  man  Is  not  accustomed  to  boast  In  that 
direction,  again  confirms  the  fact  that  all  enterprises  have 
remained  but  dreams,  that  the  body  has  remained  "  invio- 
late." When  the  hero  visits  the  heroine  In  a  dream,  It  Is 
clear  what  Is  meant.  This  assertion  of  the  hero's,  that  he 
has  remained  inviolate,  refers  back  to  the  unsuccessful 
attempt  upon  his  life  In  the  previous  chapter  (huntsman 
with  the  arrow),  and  clearly  explains  to  us  what  was 
really  meant  by  this  assault;  that  Is  to  say,  the  refusal 
of  the  coitus  phantasy.  Here  the  wish  of  the  unconscious 
obtrudes  itself  again,  after  the  hero  had  repressed  it  the 
first  time,  and  thereupon  he  painfully  and  hysterically 


432        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

utters  this  monologue.  "  Temptation  will  often  assail 
her  soul — but  it  will  not  yield."  This  very  bold  assertion 
reduces — noblesse  oblige — the  unconscious  to  an  enormous 
infantile  megalomania,  which  is  always  the  case  when  the 
libido  is  compelled,  through  similar  circumstances,  to  re- 
gressions. "  Only  once  in  all  the  ten  thousand  moons  is 
a  soul  born  like  mine !  "  Here  the  unconscious  ego  ex- 
pands to  an  enormous  degree,  evidently  in  order  to  cover 
with  its  boastfulness  a  large  part  of  the  neglected  duty 
of  life.  But  punishment  follows  at  its  heels.  Whoever 
prides  himself  too  much  on  having  sustained  no  wound 
in  the  battle  of  life  lays  himself  open  to  the  suspicion  that 
his  fighting  has  been  with  words  only,  whilst  actually  he 
has  remained  far  away  from  the  firing-line.  This  spirit  is 
just  the  reverse  of  the  pride  of  those  savage  women, 
who  point  with  satisfaction  to  the  countless  scars  which 
were  given  them  by  their  men  in  the  sexual  fight  for 
supremacy.  In  accordance  with  this,  and  in  logical 
continuation  of  the  same,  all  that  follows  is  expressed  in 
figurative  speech.  The  orgiastic  "  Occide  moriturus  "  in 
its  admixture  with  the  reckless  laughter  of  the  Dionysian 
frenzy  confronts  us  here  in  sorry  disguise  with  a  senti- 
mental stage  trickery  worthy  of  our  posthumous  edition 
of  "  Christian  morals."  In  place  of  the  positive  phallus, 
the  negative  appears,  and  leads  the  hero's  horse  (his 
libido  animalis),  not  to  satisfaction,  but  into  eternal 
peace — also  the  fate  of  the  hero.  This  end  means  that 
the  mother,  represented  as  the  jaws  of  death,  devours  the 
libido  of  the  daughter.  Therefore,  instead  of  life  and 
procreative  growth,  only  phantastic  self-oblivion  results. 


THE  SACRIFICE  433 

This  weak  and  inglorious  end  has  no  elevating  or  illumi- 
nating meaning  so  long  as  we  consider  it  merely  as  the  so- 
lution of  an  individual  erotic  conflict.  The  fact  that  the 
symbols  under  which  the  solution  takes  place  have  actually 
a  significant  aspect,  reveals  to  us  that  behind  the  individual 
mask,  behind  the  veil  of  "  individuation,"  a  primitive  idea 
stands,  the  severe  and  serious  features  of  which  take  from 
us  the  courage  to  consider  the  sexual  meaning  of  the  Mil- 
ler symbolism  as  all-sufficient. 

It  is  not  to  be  forgotten  that  the  sexual  phantasies  of 
the  neurotic  and  the  exquisite  sexual  language  of  dreams 
are  regressive  phenomena.  The  sexuality  of  the  uncon- 
scious is  not  what  it  seems  to  be;  it  is  merely  a  symbol; 
it  is  a  thought  bright  as  day,  clear  as  sunlight,  a  decision, 
a  step  forward  to  every  goal  of  life — but  expressed  in  the 
unreal  sexual  language  of  the  unconscious,  and  in  the 
thought  form  of  an  earlier  stage;  a  resurrection,  so  to 
speak,  of  earlier  modes  of  adaptation.  When,  therefore, 
the  unconscious  pushes  into  the  foreground  the  coitus 
wish,  negatively  expressed,  it  means  somewhat  as  follows : 
under  similar  circumstances  primitive  man  acted  in  such 
and  such  a  manner.  The  mode  of  adaptation  which  to- 
day is  unconscious  for  us  is  carried  on  by  the  savage 
Negro  of  the  present  day,  whose  undertakings  beyond 
those  of  nutrition  appertain  to  sexuality,  characterized  by 
violence  and  cruelty.  Therefore,  in  view  of  the  archaic 
mode  of  expression  of  the  Miller  phantasy,  we  are  jus- 
tified in  assuming  the  correctness  of  our  interpretation  for 
the  lowest  and  nearest  plane  only.  A  deeper  stratum  of 
meaning  underlies  the  earlier  assertion  that  the  figure  of 


434       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Chiwantopel  has  the  character  of  Cassius,  who  has  a  lamb 
as  a  companion.  Therefore,  Chiwantopel  is  the  portion 
of  the  dreamer's  libido  bound  up  with  the  mother  (and, 
therefore,  masculine)  ;  hence  he  is  her  infantile  person- 
ality, the  childishness  of  character,  which  as  yet  is  unable 
to  understand  that  one  must  leave  father  and  mother, 
when  the  time  is  come,  in  order  to  serve  the  destiny  of  the 
entire  personality.    This  is  outlined  in  Nietzsche's  words : 

"Free  dost  thou  call  thyself?  Thy  dominant  thought  would 
I  hear  and  not  that  thou  hast  thrown  off  a  yoke.  Art  thou  one 
who  had  the  right  to  throw  off  a  yoke?  There  are  many  who 
throw  away  their  last  value  when  they  throw  away  their  servi- 
tude." 

Therefore,  when  Chiwantopel  dies,  it  means  that  herein 
is  a  fulfilment  of  a  wish,  that  this  infantile  hero,  who 
cannot  leave  the  mother's  care,  may  die.  And  if  with  that 
the  bond  between  mother  and  daughter  is  severed,  a 
great  step  forward  is  gained  both  for  inner  and  outer 
freedom.  But  man  wishes  to  remain  a  child  too  long;  he 
would  fain  stop  the  turning  of  the  wheel,  which,  rolling, 
bears  along  with  it  the  years;  man  wishes  to  keep  his 
childhood  and  eternal  youth,  rather  than  to  die  and  suffer 
corruption  in  the  grave.  ("  O,  do  not  suffer  my  body  to 
^all  into  decay  and  corruption.")  Nothing  brings  the 
I  relentless  flight  of  time  and  the  cruel  perishability  of  all 
blossoms  more  painfully  to  our  consciousness  than  an  in- 
/^active  and  empty  life.  Idle  dreaming  is  the  mother  of 
the  fear  of  death,  the  sentimental  deploring  of  what  has 
been  and  the  vain  turning  back  of  the  clock.  Although 
man  can  forget  in  the  long-  (perhaps  too  long)  guarded 


THE  SACRIFICE  435 

feelings  of  youth,  In  the  dreamy  state  of  stubbornly 
held  remembrances,  that  the  wheel  rolls  onward,  never- 
theless mercilessly  does  the  gray  hair,  the  relaxation  of 
the  skin  and  the  wrinkles  in  the  face  tell  us,  that  whether 
or  not  we  expose  the  body  to  the  destroying  powers  of 
the  whole  struggle  of  life,  the  poison  of  the  stealthily 
creeping  serpent  of  time  consumes  our  bodies,  which, 
alas!  we  so  dearly  love.  Nor  does  it  help  if  we  cry  out 
with  the  melancholy  hero  Chlwantopel,  "  I  have  kept  my 
body  Inviolate";  flight  from  life  does  not  free  us  from 
the  law  of  age  and  death.  The  neurotic  who  seeks  to 
get  rid  of  the  necessities  of  life  wins  nothing  and  lays 
upon  himself  the  frightful  burden  of  a  premature  age 
and  death,  which  must  appear  especially  cruel  on  account 
of  the  total  emptiness  and  meaninglessness  of  his  life.  If 
the  libido  Is  not  permitted  to  follow  the  progressive  life, 
which  Is  willing  to  accept  all  dangers  and  all  losses,  then 
it  follows  the  other  road,  sinking  Into  its  own  depths, 
working  down  into  the  old  foreboding  regarding  the  im- 
mortality of  all  life,  to  the  longing  for  rebirth. 

Holderlln  exemplifies  this  path  in  his  poetry  and  his 
life.    I  leave  the  poet  to  speak  in  his  song: 

To  the  Rose. 
**  In  the  Mother-womb  eternal, 
Sweetest  queen  of  every  lea, 
Still  the  living  and  supernal 
Nature  carries  thee  and  me. 

"  Little  rose,  the  storm's  fierce  power 
Strips  our  leaves  and  alters  us ; 
Yet  the  deathless  germ  will  tower 
To  new  blooms,  miraculous." 


436       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

The  following  comments  may  be  made  upon  the  par- 
able of  this  poem :  The  rose  is  the  symbol  of  the  beloved 
woman  ("  Haidenroslein,"  heather  rose  of  Goethe). 
The  rose  blooms  in  the  "  rose-garden"  of  the  maiden; 
therefore,  it  is  also  a  direct  symbol  of  the  libido.  When 
the  poet  dreams  that  he  is  with  the  rose  in  the  mother- 
womb  of  nature,  then,  psychologically,  the  fact  is  that  his 
hbido  is  with  the  mother.  Here  is  an  eternal  germination 
and  renewal.  We  have  come  across  this  motive  already 
in  the  Hierosgamos  hymn  (Iliad  XIV)  :  The  nuptials 
in  the  blessed  West;  that  is  to  say,  the  union  in  and  with 
the  mother.  Plutarch  shows  us  this  motive  in  naive  form 
in  his  tradition  of  the  Osiris  myth;  Osiris  and  Isis  copu- 
lating in  the  mother's  womb.  This  is  also  perceived  by 
Holderlin  as  the  enviable  prerogative  of  the  gods — to 
enjoy  everlasting  infancy.    Thus,  in  Hyperion,  he  says : 

"  Fateless,  like  the  sleeping  nursling, 
Breathe  the  Heavenly  ones; 
Chastely  guarded  in  modest  buds, 
Their  spirits  blossom  eternally. 
And  their  quiet  eyes 
Gaze  out  in  placid 
Eternal  serenity." 

This  quotation  shows  the  meaning  of  heavenly  blisS: 
Holderlin  never  was  able  to  forget  this  first  and  greatest 
happiness,  the  dreamy  picture  of  which  estranged  him 
from  real  life.  Moreover,  in  this  poem,  the  ancient 
motive  of  the  twitts  in  the  mother's  womb  is  intimated. 
(Isis  and  Osiris  in  the  mother's  womb.)  The  motive  is 
archaic.    There  is  a  legend  in  Frobenius  of  how  the  great 


i 


THE  SACRIFICE  437 

serpent  (appearing  from  the  little  serpent  in  the  hollow 
tree,  through  the  so-called  stretching  out  of  the  serpent) 
has  finally  devoured  all  men  (devouring  mother — death), 
and  only  a  pregnant  woman  remains  alive;  she  digs  a 
ditch,  covers  it  with  a  stone  (grave — mother's  womb), 
and,  living  there,  she  gives  birth  to  twins,  the  subsequent 
dragon-killers  (the  hero  in  double  form,  man  and  phallus, 
man  and  woman,  man  with  his  libido,  the  dying  and  rising 
sun). 

This  existence  together  in  the  mother  is  to  be  found 
also  very  beautifully  expressed  in  an  African  myth  (Fro- 
benius)  : 

"  In  the  beginning,  Obatala,  the  heaven,  and  Odudua,  the  earth, 
his  wife,  lay  pressed  firmly  together  in  a  calabas." 

The  guarding  "  in  a  modest  bud  "  is  an  idea  which  has 
appeared  already  in  Plutarch,  where  it  is  said  that  the 
sun  was  born  in  the  morning  from  a  flower  bud.  Brahma, 
too,  comes  from  the  bud,  which  also  gave  birth  in  Assam 
to  the  first  human  pair. 

Humanity. 

(An  unfinished  poem.) 

"  Scarcely  sprouted  from  the  waters,  O  Earth, 
Are  thy  old  mountain  tops  and  diffuse  odors, 
While  the  first  green  islands,  full  of  young  woods,  breathe  delight 
Through  the  May  air  over  the  Ocean. 

"  And  joyfully  the  eye  of  the  Sun-god  looked  down 
Upon  the  firstlings  of  the  trees  and  flowers; 
Laughing  children  of  his  youth,  born  from  thee ; 
When  on  the  fairest  of  the  islands  .  .  . 


438       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Once  lay  thy  most  beautiful  child  under  the  grapes; 

Lay  after  a  mild  night;  in  the  dawn, 

In  the  daybreak  a  child  born  to  thee,  O  Earth! 

And  the  boy  looks  up  familiarly 

To  his  Father,  Helios, 

And,  tasting  the  sweet  grapes, 

He  picked  the  sacred  vine  for  his  nurse, 

And  soon  he  is  grown ;  the  beasts 

Fear  him,  for  he  is  different  from  them: 

This  man ;  he  is  not  like  thee,  the  father, 

For  the  lofty  soul  of  the  father. 

Is  in  him  boldly  united  with  thy  pleasures, 

And  thy  sadness,  O  Earth, 

He  may  resemble  the  eternal  Nature, 

The  mother  of  Gods,  the  terrible  Mother. 

"  Ah!  therefore,  O  Earth, 
His  presumption  drives  him  away  from  thy  breast, 
And  thy  gifts  are  vain,  the  tender  ones ; 
Ever  and  ever  too  high  does  the  proud  heart  beat. 

"  Out  from  the  sweet  meadow  of  his  shores 
Man  must  go  into  the  flowerless  waters. 
And  tho  his  groves  shine  with  golden  fruit, 
Like  the  starry  night,  yet  he  digs. 
He  digs  caves  in  the  mountains,  and  seeks  in  the  mines, 
Far  from  the  sacred  rays  of  his  father. 
Faithless  also  to  the  Sun-god, 
Who  does  not  love  weaklings,  and  mocks  at  cares. 

"  Ah!  freer  do  the  birds  of  the  wood  breathe: 
Although  the  breast  of  man  heaves  wilder  and  more  proudly. 
His  pride  becomes  fear,  and  the  tender  flowers 
Of  his  peace  do  not  bloom  for  long." 

This  poem  betrays  to  us  the  beginning  of  the  discord 
between  the  poet  and  nature;  he  begins  to  be  estranged 
from  reality,  the  natural  actual  existence.     It  is  a  re- 


THE  SACRIFICE  439 

markable  idea  how  the  little  child  chooses  "  the  vine  for 
his  nurse."  This  Dionysian  allusion  is  very  old.  In  the 
significant  blessing  of  Jacob  it  is  said  of  Judah  (Genesis, 
chap,  xlix,  verse  11): 

"  Binding  his  foal  unto  the  vine,  and  his  ass's  colt  unto  the 
choice  vine." 

A  Gnostic  gem  has  been  preserved  upon  which  there 
is  a  representation  of  an  ass  suckling  her  foal,  above 
which  is  the  symbol  of  Cancer,  and  the  circumscription 
D.N.I.H.Y.X.P.S. :  Dominus  Noster  Jesus  Christus,  with 
the  supplement  Dei  filius.  As  Justinus  Martyr  indignantly 
observes,  the  connections  of  the  Christian  legend  with  that 
of  Dionysus  are  unmistakable.  (Compare,  for  example, 
the  miracle  of  the  wine.)  In  the  last-named  legend  the 
ass  plays  an  important  role.  Generally  speaking,  the  ass 
has  an  entirely  different  meaning  in  the  Mediterranean 
countries  than  with  us — an  economic  one.  Therefore,  it 
is  a  benediction  when  Jacob  says  (Genesis,  chap,  xlix, 
verse   14)  : 

"  Issachar  is  a  strong  ass  couching  down  between  two  burdens." 

The  above-mentioned  thought  is  altogether  Oriental. 
Just  as  in  Egypt  the  new-born  sun  is  a  bull-calf,  in  the 
rest  of  the  Orient  it  can  easily  be  an  ass's  foal,  to  whom 
the  vine  is  the  nurse.  Hence  the  picture  in  the  blessing 
of  Jacob,  where  it  is  said  of  Judah: 

"  His  eyes  are  ruddy  with  wine  and  his  teeth  white  with  milk." 

The  mock  crucifix  of  the  Palatine,  with  an  ass's  head, 
evidently  alludes  to  a  very  significant  background. 


440       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

To  Nature. 

"  While  about  thy  veil  I  lingered,  playing, 

And,  like  any  bud,  upon  thee  hung,^ 
Still  I  felt  thy  heart  in  every  straying 

Sound  about  my  heart  that  shook  and  clung. 
While  I  groped  with  faith  and  painful  yearning, 

To  your  picture,  glowing  and  unfurled, 
Still  I  found  a  place  for  all  my  burning 

Tears,  and  for  my  love  I  found  a  world ! 

"  To  the  Sun  my  heart,  before  all  others. 

Turned  and  felt  its  potent  magicry ; 
And  it  called  the  stars  its  little  brothers,^ 

And  it  called  the  Spring,  God's  melody; 
And  each  breeze  in  groves  or  woodlands  fruity 

Held  thy  spirit — and  that  same  sweet  joy 
Moved  the  well-springs  of  my  heart  with  beauty— 

Those  were  golden  days  without  alloy. 

"  Where  the  Spring  is  cool  in  every  valley,* 

And  the  youngest  bush  and  twig  is  green, 
And  about  the  rocks  the  grasses  rally. 

And  the  branches  show  the  sky  between, 
There  I  lay,  imbibing  every  flower 

In  a  rapt,  intoxicated  glee. 
And,  surrounded  by  a  golden  shower. 

From  their  heights  the  clouds  sank  down  to  me.^ 

**  Often,  as  a  weary,  wandering  river 

Longs  to  join  the  ocean's  placid  mirth, 
I  have  wept  and  lost  myself  forever 

In  the  fulness  of  thy  love,  O  Earth ! 
Then — with  all  the  ardor  of  my  being — 

Forth  I  rushed  from  Time's  slow  apathy, 
Like  a  pilgrim  home  from  travel,  fleeing 

To  the  arms  of  rapt  Eternity. 

^'Blessed  be  childhood's  golden  dreams,  their  power 
Hid  from  me  Life's  dismal  poverty: 


THE  SACRIFICE  441 

All  the  heart's  rich  germs  ye  brought  to  flower; 

Things  I  could  not  reach,  ye  gave  to  me! ' 
In  thy  beauty  and  thy  light,  O  Nature, 

Free  from  care  and  from  compulsion  free, 
Fruitful  Love  attained  a  kingly  stature, 

Rich  as  harvests  reaped  in  Arcady. 

"  That  w^hich  brought  me  up,  is  dead  and  riven, 

Dead  the  youthful  world  which  was  my  shield ; 
And  this  breast,  which  used  to  harbor  heaven. 

Dead  and  dry  as  any  stubble-field. 
Still  my  Springlike  sorrows  sing  and  cover 

With  their  friendly  comfort  every  smart — 
But  the  morning  of  my  life  is  over 

And  the  Spring  has  faded  from  my  heart.  .  .  . 

**  Shadows  are  the  things  that  once  we  cherished ; 

Love  itself  must  fade  and  cannot  bide; 
Since  the  golden  dreams  of  youth  have  perished, 

Even  friendly  Nature's  self  has  died. 
Heart,  poor  heart,  those  days  could  never  show  it — 

How  far-off  thy  home,  and  where  it  lies  .  .  . 
Now,  alas,  thou  nevermore  wilt  know  it 

If  a  dream  of  it  does  not  suffice." 

Palinodia. 

"What  gathers  about  me.  Earth,  in  your  dusky,  friendly  green? 
What  are  you  blowing  towards  me.  Winds,  what  do  you  bring 

again  ? 
There  is  a  rustling  in  all  the  tree-tops.  .  .  . 


Why  do  you  wake  my  soul  ? 
Why  do  ye  stir  in  me  the  past,  ye  Kind  ones? 
Oh,  spare  me,  and  let  them  rest ;  oh,  do  not  mock 
Those  ashes  of  my  joy.  .  .  . 

"  O  change  your  changeless  gods — 
And  grow  in  your  youth  over  the  old  ones. 


442       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

And  if  you  would  be  akin  to  the  mortals 

The  young  girls  will  blossom  for  you. 

And  the  young  heroes  will  shine ; 

And,  sweeter  than  ever, 

Morning  will  play  upon  the  cheeks  of  the  happy  ones; 

And,  ravishing-sweet,  you  will  hear 

The  songs  of  those  who  are  without  care.  .  .  . 

"  Ah,  once  the  living  waves  of  song 
Surged  out  of  every  bush  to  me ; 
And  still  the  heavenly  ones  glanced  down  upon  me, 
Their  eyes  shining  with  joy." 


The  separation  from  the  blessedness  of  childhood, 
from  youth  even,  has  taken  the  golden  glamour  from 
nature,  and  the  future  Is  hopeless  emptiness.  But  what 
robs  nature  of  its  glamour,  and  life  of  its  joy,  is  the 
poison  of  the  retrospective  longing,  which  harks  back,  in 
order  to  sink  into  its  own  depths : 

Empedocles. 

"  Thou  seekest  life — and  a  godly  fire  springs  to  thee, 
Gushing  and  gleaming,  from  the  deeps  of  the  earth; 
And,  with  shuddering  longing. 
Throws  thee  down  into  the  flames  of  Aetna. 

"  So,  through  a  queen's  wanton  whim. 
Pearls  are  dissolved  in  wine — restrain  her  not! 
Didst  thou  not  throw  thy  riches.  Poet, 
Into  the  bright  and  bubbling  cup! 

"  Still  thou  art  holy  to  me,  as  the  Power  of  Earth 
Which  took  thee  away,  lovely  assassin !  .  .  . 
And  I  would  have  followed  the  hero  to  the  depths, 
Had  Love  not  held  me." 


THE  SACRIFICE  443 

This  poem  betrays  the  secret  longing  for  the  maternal 
depths/ 

He  would  like  to  be  sacrificed  in  the  chalice,  dissolved 
in  wine  like  pearls  (the  "crater"  of  rebirth),  yet  love 
holds  him  within  the  light  of  day.  The  libido  still  has 
an  object,  for  the  sake  of  which  life  is  worth  living.  But 
were  this  object  abandoned,  then  the  libido  would  sink 
into  the  realm  of  the  subterranean,  the  mother,  who 
brings  forth  again: 

Obituary. 
(Unfinished  poem.) 

"  Daily  I  go  a  different  path. 
Sometimes  into  the  green  wood,  sometimes  to  the  bath  in  the 

spring; 
Or  to  the  rocks  where  the  roses  bloom. 
From  the  top  of  the  hill  I  look  over  the  land, 
Yet  nowhere,  thou  lovely  one,  nowhere  in  the  light  do  I  find 

thee  ; 
And  in  the  breezes  my  words  die  away, 
The  sacred  words  which  once  we  had. 

"  Aye,  thou  art  far  away,  O  holy  countenance ! 
And  the  melody  of  thy  life  is  kept  from  me, 
No  longer  overheard.    And,  ah,  where  are 
Thy  magic  songs  which  once  soothed  my  heart 
With  the  peace  of  Heaven? 
How  long  it  is,  how  long! 

The  youth  is  aged ;  the  very  earth  itself,  which  once  smiled  on  me, 
Has  grown  different. 

"  Oh,  farewell !     The  soul  of  every  day  departs,  and,  departing, 
turns  to  thee — 
And  over  thee  there  weeps 
r        The  eye  that,  becoming  brighter, 
^L      Looks  down, 
^H    There  where  thou  tarriest." 


444       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

This  distinctly  suggests  a  renunciation,  an  envy  of  one's 
own  youth,  that  time  of  freedom  which  one  would  like 
to  retain  through  a  deep-rooted  dislike  to  all  duty  and 
endeavor  which  is  denied  an  immediate  pleasure  reward. 
Painstaking  work  for  a  long  time  and  for  a  remote  object 
is  not  in  the  nature  of  child  or  primitive  man.  It  is  diffi- 
cult to  say  if  this  can  really  be  called  laziness,  but  it 
seems  to  have  not  a  little  in  common  with  it,  in  so  far  as 
the  psychic  life  on  a  primitive  stage,  be  it  of  an  infantile 
or  archaic  type,  possesses  an  extreme  inertia  and  irre- 
sponsibility in  production  and  non-production. 

The  last  stanza  portends  evil,  a  gazing  towards  the 
other  land,  the  distant  coast  of  sunrise  or  sunset;  love  no 
longer  holds  the  poet,  the  bonds  with  the  world  are  torn 
and  he  calls  loudly  for  assistance  to  the  mother : 

Achilles. 
"  Lordly  son  of  the  Gods !    Because  you  lost  your  loved  one, 
You  went  to  the  rocky  coast  and  cried  aloud  to  the  flood, 
Till  the  depths  of  the  holy  abyss  heard  and  echoed  your  grief, 
From  the  far  reaches  of  your  heart.     Down,  deep  down,  far 

from  the  clamor  of  ships, 
Deep  under  the  waves,  in  a  peaceful  cave, 
Dwelt  the  beautiful  Thetis,  she  who  protected  you,  the  Goddess 

of  the  Sea, 
Mother  of  the  youth  was  she ;  the  powerful  Goddess, 
She  who  once  had  lovingly  nursed  him. 

On  the  rocky  shore  of  his  island ;  she  who  had  made  him  a  hero 
With  the  might  of  her  strengthening  bath  and  the  powerful  song 

of  the  waves. 
And  the  mother,  mourning,  hearkened  to  the  cry  of  her  child, 
And  rose,  like  a  cloud,  from  the  bed  of  the  sea, 
Soothing  with  tender  embraces  the  pains  of  her  darling; 
And  he  listened,  while  she,  caressing,  promised  to  soften  his  grief. 


THE  SACRIFICE  445 

"  Son  of  the  Gods!    Oh,  were  I  like  you,  then  could  I  confidently 
Call  on  the  Heavenly  Ones  to  hearken  to  my  secret  grief. 
But  never  shall  I  see  this — I  shall  bear  the  disgrace 
As  if  I  never  belonged  to  her,  even  though  she  thinks  of  me  with 

tears. 
Beneficent  Ones!    And  yet  Ye  hear  the  lightest  prayers  of  men. 
Ah,  how  rapt  and  fervently  I  worshipped  you,  holy  Light, 
Since  I  have  lived,  the  Earth  and  its  fountains  and  woodlands. 
Father  Ether — and  my  heart  has  felt  you  about  me,  so  ardent 

and  pure — 
Oh,  soften  my  sorrows,  ye  Kind  Ones, 
That  my  soul  may  not  be  silenced,  may  not  be  struck  dumb  too 

early ; 
That  I  may  live  and  thank  Ye,  O  Heavenly  Powers, 
With  joyful  songs  through  all  the  hurrying  days. 
Thank  ye  for  gifts  of  the  past,  for  the  joys  of  vanished  Youth — 
And  then,  pray,  take  me,  the  lonely  one. 
Graciously,  unto  yourselves." 

These  poems  describe  more  plainly  than  could  be  de- 
picted with  meagre  words  the  persistent  arrest  and  the 
constantly  growing  estrangement  from  life,  the  gradual 
deep  immersion  into  the  maternal  abyss  of  the  individual 
being.  The  apocalyptic  song  of  Patmos  is  strangely  re- 
lated to  these  songs  of  retrogressive  longing.  It  enters 
as  a  dismal  guest  surrounded  by  the  mist  of  the  depths, 
the  gathering  clouds  of  Insanity,  bred  through  the  mother. 
In  it  the  primitive  thoughts  of  the  myth,  the  suggestion 
clad  In  symbols,  of  the  sun-like  death  and  resurrection  of 
life,  again  burst  forth.  Similar  things  are  to  be  found  in 
abundance  among  sick  people  of  this  sort. 

I  reproduce  some  significant  fragments  from  Patmos : 

"  Near  is  the  God 
And  hard  to  comprehend, 


446       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

But  where  Danger  threatens 
The  Rescuer  appears." 

These  words  mean  that  the  libido  has  now  sunk  to  the 
lowest  depths,  where  "the  danger  is  great."  (Faust, 
Part  II,  Mother  scene.)  There  "the  God  is  near"; 
there  man  may  find  the  inner  sun,  his  own  nature,  sun- 
like and  self-renewing,  hidden  in  the  mother-womb  like 
the  sun  in  the  nighttime  : 

".  .  .  In  Chasms 
And  in  darkness  dwell 
The  eagles;  and  fresh  and  fearlessly 
The  Sons  of  the  Alps  pass  swiftly  over  the  abyss 
Upon  lightly  swinging  bridges." 

With  these  words  the  dark  phantastic  poem  passes  on. 
The  eagle,  the  bird  of  the  sun,  dwells  in  darkness — the 
libido  has  hidden  Itself,  but  high  above  It  the  inhabitants 
of  the  mountains  pass,  probably  the  gods  ("  Ye  are  walk- 
ing above  In  the  light"),  symbols  of  the  sun  wandering 
across  the  sky,  like  the  eagle  flying  over  the  depths : 

".  .  .  Above  and  around  are  reared 
The  summits  of  Time, 
And  the  loved  ones,  though  near. 
Live  on  deeply  separated  mountains. 
So  give  us  waters  of  innocence, 
And  give  us  wings  of  true  understanding. 
With  which  to  pass  across  and  to  return  again." 

The  first  is  a  gloomy  picture  of  the  mountains  and  of 
time — although  caused  by  the  sun  wandering  over  the 
mountains,  the  following  picture  a  nearness,  and  at  the 


I 


THE  SACRIFICE  447 

same  time  separation,  of  the  lovers,  and  seems  to  hint  at 
life  in  the  underworld,*  where  he  is  united  with  all  that 
once  was  dear  to  him,  and  yet  cannot  enjoy  the  happiness 
of  reunion,  because  it  is  all  shadows  and  unreal  and  devoid 
of  life.  Here  the  one  who  descends  drinks  the  waters  of 
innocence,  the  waters  of  childhood,  the  drink  of  rejuve- 
nation,® so  wings  may  grow,  and,  winged,  he  may  soar  up 
again  into  life,  like  the  winged  sun,  which  arises  like  a 
swan  from  the  water  ("Wings,  to  pass  across  and  to 
return  again  ")  : 

".  .  .  So  I  spoke,  and  lo,  a  genie 
Carried  me  off,  swifter  than  I  had  imagined, 
And  farther  than  ever  I  had  thought 
From  my  own  house! 
It  grew  dark 
As  I  went  in  the  twilight. 
The  shadowy  wood, 

And  the  yearning  brooks  of  my  home-land 
Grew  vague  behind  me — 
And  I  knew  the  country  no  longer." 

After  the  dark  and  obscure  words  of  the  introduction, 
wherein  the  poet  expresses  the  prophecy  of  what  is  to 
come,  the  sun  journey  begins  ("night  journey  in  the 
sea  ")  towards  the  east,  towards  the  ascent,  towards  the 
mystery  of  eternity  and  rebirth,  of  which  Nietzsche  also 
dreams,  and  which  he  expressed  in  significant  words: 

"  Oh,  how  could  I  not  be  ardent  for  eternity,  and  for  the  nup- 
tial ring  of  rings — :the  ring  of  the  return!  Never  yet  have  I 
found  the  woman  from  whom  I  wish  children,  unless  she  would 
be  this  woman  whom  I  love ;  for  I  love  thee,  O  eternity." 


448       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

Holderlin  expresses  this  same  longing  in  a  beautiful 
symbol,  the  individual  traits  of  which  are  already  familiar 
to  us: 

".  .  .  But  soon  in  a  fresh  radiance 
Mysteriously 

Blossoming  in  golden  smoke, 
With  the  rapidly  growing  steps  of  the  sun, 
Making  a  thousand  summits  fragrant, 
Asia  arose ! 
And,  dazzled, 

I  sought  one  whom  I  knew ; 
For  unfamiliar  to  me  were  the  broad  roads, 
Where  from  Tmolus 
Comes  the  gilded  Pactol, 
And  Taurus  stands  and  Messagis — 
And  the  gardens  are  full  of  flowers. 
But  high  up  in  the  light 
The  silvery  snow  gleams,  a  silent  fire ; 
And,  as  a  symbol  of  eternal  life. 
On  the  impassable  walls. 
Grows  the  ancient  ivy.^° 

And  carried  by  columns  of  living  cedars  and  laurels 
Are  the  solemn,  divinely  built  palaces." 

The  symbol  is  apocalyptic,  the  maternal  city  in  the 
land  of  eternal  youth,  surrounded  by  the  verdure  and 
flowers  of  imperishable  spring."  The  poet  identifies  him- 
self here  with  John,  who  lived  on  Patmos,  who  was  once 
associated  with  "  the  sun  of  the  Highest,"  and  saw  him 
face  to  face : 

"  There  at  the  Mystery  of  the  Vine  they  met. 
There  at  the  hour  of  the  Holy  Feast  they  gathered, 
And — feeling  the  approach  of  Death  in  his  great,  quiet  soul, 


THE  SACRIFICE  449 

The  Lord,  pouring  out  his  last  love,  spoke, 

And  then  he  died. 

Much  could  be  said  of  it — 

How  his  triumphant  glance, 

The  happiest  of  all, 

Was  seen  by  his  companions,  even  at  the  last. 

Therefore  he  sent  the  Spirit  unto  them, 

And  the  house  trembled,  solemnly; 

And,  with  distant  thunder. 

The  storm  of  God  rolled  over  the  cowering  heads 

Where,  deep  in  thought, 

The  heroes  of  death  were  assembled.  .  .  . 

Now,  when  he,  in  parting. 

Appeared  once  more  before  them. 

Then  the  kingly  day,  the  day  of  the  sun,  was  put  out, 

And  the  gleaming  sceptre,  formed  of  his  rays, 

Was  broken — and  suffered  like  a  god  itself. 

Yet  it  shall  return  and  glow  again 

When  the  right  time  comes." 

The  fundamental  pictures  are  the  sacrificial  death  and 
the  resurrection  of  Christ,  like  the  self-sacrifice  of  the 
sun,  which  voluntarily  breaks  its  sceptre,  the  fructifying 
rays,  in  the  certain  hope  of  resurrection.  The  following 
comments  are  to  be  noted  In  regard  to  "  the  sceptre  of 
rays  " :  Splelreln's  patient  says,  "  God  pierces  through 
the  earth  with  his  rays."  The  earth.  In  the  patient's  mind, 
has  the  meaning  of  woman.  She  also  comprehends  the 
sunbeam  In  mythologic  fashion  as  something  solid: 
"  Jesus  Christ  has  shown  me  his  love,  by  striking  against 
the  window  with  a  sunbeam."  Among  other  Insane  pa- 
tients I  have  come  across  the  same  Idea  of  the  solid  sub- 
stance of  the  sunbeam.     Here  there  Is  also  a  hint  of  the 


450       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

phallic  nature  of  the  instrument  which  is  associated  with 
the  hero.  Thor's  hammer,  which,  cleaving  the  earth, 
penetrates  deeply  into  it,  may  be  compared  to  the  foot  of 
Kaineus.  The  hammer  is  retained  in  the  interior  of  the 
earth,  like  the  treasure,  and,  in  the  course  of  time,  it 
gradually  comes  again  to  the  surface  ("the  treasure 
blooms"),  meaning  that  it  was  born  again  from  the 
earth.  (Compare  what  has  been  said  concerning  the 
etymology  of  "  swelling.")  On  many  monuments  Mithra 
holds  a  peculiar  object  in  his  hands,  which  Cumont  com- 
pares to  a  half-filled  tube.  Dieterich  proves  from  his 
papyrus  text  that  the  object  is  the  shoulder  of  the  bull, 
the  bear  constellation.  The  shoulder  has  an  indirect 
phallic  meaning,  for  it  is  the  part  which  is  wanting  in 
Pelops.  Pelops  was  slaughtered  by  his  father,  Tantalus, 
dismembered,  and  boiled  in  a  kettle,  to  make  a  meal  for 
the  gods.  Demeter  had  unsuspectingly  eaten  the  shoulder 
from  this  feast,  when  Zeus  discovered  the  outrage.  He 
had  the  pieces  thrown  back  into  the  kettle,  and,  with  the 
help  of  the  life-dispensing  Clotho,  Pelops  was  regen- 
erated, and  the  shoulder  which  was  missing  was  replaced 
by  an  ivory  one.  This  substitution  is  a  close  parallel  to 
the  substitution  of  the  missing  phallus  of  Osiris.  Mithra 
is  represented  in  a  special  ceremony,  holding  the  bull's 
shoulder  over  Sol,  his  son  and  vice-regent.  This  scene 
may  be  compared  to  a  sort  of  dedication,  or  accolade 
(something  like  the  ceremony  of  confirmation).  The 
blow  of  the  hammer  as  a  generating,  fructifying,  inspir- 
ing function  is  retained  as  a  folk-custom  and  expressed 
by  striking  with  the  twig  of  life,  which  has  the  significance 


THE  SACRIFICE  451 

of  a  charm  of  fertility.  In  the  neuroses,  the  sexual  mean- 
ing of  castigation  plays  an  important  part,  for  among 
many  children  castigation  may  elicit  a  sexual  orgasm. 
The  ritual  act  of  striking  has  the  same  significance  of 
generating  (fructifying),  and  is,  indeed,  merely  a  variant 
of  the  original  phallic  ceremonial.  Of  similar  character 
to  the  bull's  shoulder  is  the  cloven  hoof  of  the  devil,  to 
which  a  sexual  meaning  also  appertains.  The  ass's  jaw- 
bone wielded  by  Samson  has  the  same  worth.  In  the 
Polynesian  Maui  myth  the  jawbone,  the  weapon  of  the 
hero,  is  derived  from  the  man-eating  woman,  Muri- 
ranga-whenua,  whose  body  swells  up  enormously  from 
lusting  for  human  flesh  (Frobenius).  Hercules'  club  is 
made  from  the  wood  of  the  maternal  olive  tree.  Faust's 
key  also  "  knows  the  mothers."  The  libido  springs  from 
the  mother,  and  with  this  weapon  alone  can  man  over- 
come death. 

It  corresponds  to  the  phallic  nature  of  the  ass's  jaw- 
bone, that  at  the  place  where  Samson  threw  it  God  caused 
a  spring  to  gush  forth  ^-  (springs  from  the  horse's  tread, 
footsteps,  horse's  hoof).  To  this  relation  of  meanings 
belongs  the  magic  wand,  the  sceptre  in  general. 
^KrJTrrpov  belongs  to  anano'i,  GHr/ndvooVy  ghi]71oov  = 
staff;  GuriTtro^  =  storm-wind;  Latin  scapus  ■=  shaft, 
stock,  scapula,  shoulder;  Old  High  German  Scaft  = 
spear,  lance. ^"  We  meet  once  more  in  this  compilation 
those  connections  which  are  already  well  known  to  us: 
Sun-phallus  as  tube  of  the  winds,  lance  and  shoulder- 
blade. 

The  passage  from  Asia  through  Patmos  to  the  Chris- 


452       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

tian  mysteries  In  the  poem  of  Holderlln  Is  apparently  a 
superficial  connection,  but  In  reality  a  very  Ingenious  train 
of  thought;  namely,  the  entrance  Into  death  and  the  land 
beyond  as  a  self-sacrifice  of  the  hero,  for  the  attainment 
of  Immortality.  At  this  time,  when  the  sun  has  set,  when 
love  is  apparently  dead,  man  awaits  in  mysterious  joy 
the  renewal  of  all  life: 

".  .  .  And  Joy  it  was 
From  now  on 

To  live  in  the  loving  night  and  see 
The  eyes  of  innocence  hold  the  unchanging 
Depths  of  all  wisdom." 

Wisdom  dwells  in  the  depths,  the  wisdom  of  the  mother : 
being  one  with  it.  Insight  Is  obtained  into  the  meaning 
of  deeper  things.  Into  all  the  deposits  of  primitive  times, 
the  strata  of  which  have  been  preserved  in  the  soul. 
Holderlln,  in  his  diseased  ecstasy,  feels  once  more  the 
greatness  of  the  things  seen,  but  he  does  not  care  to  bring 
up  to  the  light  of  day  that  which  he  had  found  In  the 
depths — in  this  he  differs  from  Faust. 

"  And  it  is  not  an  evil,  if  a  few 
Are  lost  and  never  found,  and  if  the  speech 
Conceals  the  living  sound ; 
Because  each  godly  work  resembles  ours ; 
And  yet  the  Highest  does  not  plan  it  all — 
The  great  pit  bears  two  irons. 
And  the  glowing  lava  of  Aetna.  .  .  . 
Would  I  had  the  power 
To  build  an  image  and  see  the  Spirit — 
See  it  as  it  was!  " 


THE  SACRIFICE  453 

He  allows  only  one  hope  to  glimmer  through,  formed 
in  scanty  words : 

"He  wakes  the  dead ; 
They  who  are  not  enchained  and  bound, 
They  who  are  not  unwrought. 
.  .  .  And  if  the  Heavenly  Ones 
Now,  as  I  believe,  love  me — 
.  .  ,  Silent  is  his  sign  ^* 
In  the  dusky  sky.    And  one  stands  under  it 
His  whole  life  long — for  Christ  still  lives." 

But,  as  once  Gilgamesh,  bringing  back  the  magic  herb 
from  the  west  land,  was  robbed  of  his  treasure  by  the 
demon  serpent,  so  does  Holderlin's  poem  die  away  in  a 
painful  lament,  which  betrays  to  us  that  no  victorious  res- 
urrection will  follow  his  descent  to  the  shadows : 

".  .  .  Ignominiously 
A  power  tears  our  heart  away, 
For  sacrifices  the  heavenly  ones  demand." 

This  recognition,  that  man  must  sacrifice  the  retro- 
gressive longing  (the  incestuous  libido)  before  the 
"  heavenly  ones  "  tear  away  the  sacrifice,  and  at  the  same 
time  the  entire  libido,  came  too  late  to  the  poet.  There- 
fore, I  take  it  to  be  a  wise  counsel  which  the  unconscious 
gives  our  author,  to  sacrifice  the  infantile  hero.  This 
sacrifice  is  best  accomplished,  as  is  shown  by  the  most 
obvious  meaning,  through  a  complete  devotion  to  life, 
in  which  all  the  libido  unconsciously  bound  up  in  familial 
bonds,  must  be  brought  outside  into  human  contact.  For 
it  is  necessary  for  the  well-being  of  the  adult  individual, 


h 


454       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

who  in  his  childhood  was  merely  an  atom  revolving  in 
a  rotary  system,  to  become  himself  the  centre  of  a  new 
system.  That  such  a  step  implies  the  solution  or,  at  least, 
the  energetic  treatment  of  the  individual  sexual  problem 
is  obvious,  for  unless  this  is  done  the  unemployed  libido 
will  inexorably  remain  fixed  in  the  incestuous  bond,  and 
will  prevent  individual  freedom  in  essential  matters.  Let 
us  keep  in  mind  that  Christ's  teaching  separates  man  from 
his  family  without  consideration,  and  in  the  talk  with 
Nicodemus  we  saw  the  specific  endeavor  of  Christ  to  pro- 
cure activation  of  the  incest  libido.  Both  tendencies  serve 
the  same  goal — the  liberation  of  man;  the  Jew  from  his 
extraordinary  fixation  to  the  family,  which  does  not  Imply 
higher  development,  but  greater  weakness  and  more  un- 
-controlled  incestuous  feeling,  produced  the  compensation 
of  the  compulsory  ceremonial  of  the  cult  and  the  re- 
ligious fear  of  the  Incomprehensible  Jehovah.  When 
man,  terrified  by  no  laws  and  no  furious  fanatics  or 
prophets,  allows  his  incestuous  libido  full  play,  and  does 
not  liberate  it  for  higher  purposes,  then  he  Is  under  the 
influence  of  unconscious  compulsion.  For  compulsion  is 
the  unconscious  wish.  (Freud.)  He  is  under  the  domi- 
nance of  the  libido  eiixapfxevt]'^  and  his  destiny  does  not 
lie  In  his  own  hands;  his  adventures,  Tvxoci  jiai  Moipai,\ 
fall  from  the  stars.  His  unconscious  incestuous  libido, 
which  thus  is  applied  in  its  most  primitive  form,  fixes  the 
man,  as  regards  his  love  type,  in  a  corresponding  primi- 1 
tive  stage,  the  stage  of  ungovernableness  and  surrender 
to  the  emotions.     Such  was  the  psychologic  situation  of 

*  Fate.  t  Chances  and  fates. 


THE  SACRIFICE  455 

the  passing  antiquity,  and  the  Redeemer  and  Physician 
of  that  time  was  he  who  endeavored  to  educate  man  to 
the  sublimation  of  the  incestuous  libido.^^  The  destruc- 
tion of  slavery  was  the  necessary  condition  of  that  sub- 
limation, for  antiquity  had  not  yet  recognized  the  duty 
of  work  and  work  as  a  duty,  as  a  social  need  of  funda- 
mental importance.  Slave  labor  was  compulsory  work, 
the  counterpart  of  the  equally  disastrous  compulsion  of 
the  libido  of  the  privileged.  It  was  only  the  obligation 
of  the  individual  to  work  which  made  possible  in  the 
long  run  that  regular  "  drainage  "  of  the  unconscious, 
which  was  inundated  by  the  continual  regression  of  the 
libido.  Indolence  is  the  beginning  of  all  vice,  because 
in  a  condition  of  slothful  dreaming  the  libido  has 
abundant  opportunity  for  sinking  into  itself,  in  order  to 
create 'compulsory  obligations  by  means  of  regressively  re- 
animated incestuous  bonds.  The  best  liberation  is 
through  regular  work}^  Work;  however,  is  salvation 
only  when  it  is  a  free  act,  and  has  in  itself  noth- 
ing of  infantile  compulsion.  In  this  respect,  religious 
ceremony  appears  in  a  high  degree  as  organized  inactiv- 
ity, and  at  the  same  time  as  the  forerunner  of  modern 
work. 

Miss  Miller's  vision  treats  the  problem  of  the  sacri- 
fice of  the  infantile  longing,  in  the  first  place,  as  an  indi- 
vidual problem,  but  if  we  cast  a  glance  at  the  form  of 
this  presentation,  then  we  will  become  aware  that  here  it 
must  concern  something,  which  is  also  a  problem  of  hu- 
manity in  general.  For  the  symbols  employed,  the  ser- 
pent Vv'hich  liilled  the  horse  ^^  and  the  hero  voluntarily 


456       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

sacrificing  himself,  are  primitive  figures  of  phanta- 
sies and  religious  myths  streaming  up  from  the  uncon- 
scious. 

In  so  far  as  the  world  and  all  within  it  is,  above  all, 
a  thought,  which  is  credited  with  transcendental  "  sub- 
stance "  through  the  empirical  need  of  the  same,  there 
results  from  the  sacrifice  of  the  regressive  libido  the  crea- 
tion of  the  world;  and,  psychologically  speaking,  the  world 
in  general.  For  him  who  looks  backward  the  world,  and 
even  the  infinite  starry  sky,  is  the  mother  ^*  who  bends 
over  and  encloses  him  on  all  sides,  and  from  the  renun- 
ciation of  this  idea  and  from  the  longing  for  this  idea 
arises  the  image  of  the  world.  From  this  most  simple 
fundamental  thought,  which  perhaps  appears  strange  to 
us  only  because  it  is  conceived  according  to  the  principle 
of  desire  and  not  the  principle  of  reality,^^  results  the 
significance  of  the  cosmic  sacrifice.  A  good  example  of 
this  is  the  slaying  of  the  Babylonian  primitive  mother 
Tiamat,  the  dragon,  whose  body  is  destined  to  form  the 
heaven  and  the  earth.  We  come  upon  this  thought  in  its 
most  complete  form  in  Hindoo  philosophy  of  the  most 
ancient  date;  namely,  in  songs  of  Rigveda.  In  Rigveda 
10:  8 1,  4,  the  song  inquires: 

**  What  was  the  tree,  what  wood  in  sooth  produced  it,  from  which 
they  fashioned  out  the  earth  and  heaven  ? 
Ye  thoughtful  men  inquire  within  your  spirit,  whereon  he  stood 
when  he  established  all  things." 

Vigvakarman,  the  All-Creator,  who  created  the  world 
from  the  unknown  tree,  did  so  as  follows: 


THE  SACRIFICE  457 

"  He  who,  sacrificing,  entered  into  all  these  beings 
As  a  wise  sacrificer,  our  Father,  who, 
Striving  for  blessings   through  prayer, 
Hiding  his  origin. 
Entered  this  lowly  world, 
What  and  who  has  served  him 
As  a  resting-place  and  a  support?  "  ^^ 

Rigveda  lo:  90,  gives  answer  to  these  questions. 
Purusha  is  the  primal  being  who 

".  .  .  covered  earth  on  every  side  and 
Spread  ten  fingers'  breadth  beyond." 

One  sees  that  Purusha  is  a  sort  of  Platonic  world  soul, 
who  surrounds  the  world  from  without.  Of  Purusha  it 
is  said: 

"  Being  born  he  overtopped  the  earth 
Before,  behind,  and  in  all  places." 

The  mother  symbolism  is  plain,  it  seems  to  me,  in  the 
idea  of  Purusha.  He  represents  the  mother-imago  and 
the  libido  of  the  child  clinging  to  her.  From  this  as- 
sumption all  that  follows  is  very  easily  explained: 

"  As  sacrificial  animal  on  the  bed  of  straw 
Was  dedicated  the  Purusha, 
Who  was  born  on  the  straw, 
Whom  the  Gods,  the  Blest,  and  the  Wise, 
Meeting  there,  sacrificed." 

This  verse  is  very  remarkable;  if  one  wishes  to  stretch 
this  mythology  out  on  the  procrustean  bed  of  logic,  sore 
violence  would  have  to  be  committed.     It  is  an  incredibly 


458       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

phantastic  conception  that,  beside  the  gods,  ordinary 
"  wise  men  "  unite  In  sacrificing  the  primitive  being,  aside 
from  the  circumstance  that,  beside  the  primitive  being, 
nothing  had  existed  in  the  beginning  (that  Is  to  say,  before 
the  sacrifice),  as  we  shall  soon  see.  If  the  great  mystery 
of  the  mother  sacrifice  is  meant  thereby,  then  all  becomes 
clear : 

"  From  that  great  general  sacrifice 
The  dripping  fat  was  gathered  up. 
He  formed  the  creatures  of  the  air, 
And  animals  both  wild  and  tame. 
From  that  great  general  sacrifice 
RIchas  and  Sama-hymns  were  born; 
Therefrom  the  metres  were  produced, 
The  Yajus  had  its  birth  from  it. 

"  The  moon  was  gendered  from  his  mind 
And  from  his  eye  the  Sun  had  birth; 
Indra  and  Agni  from  his  mouth 
Were  born,  and  Vayu  from  his  breath. 

"  Forth  from  his  navel  came  midair; 
The  sky  was  fashioned  from  his  head ; 
Earth  from  his  feet,  and  from  his  ears 
The  regions.    Thus  they  formed  the  worlds." 

It  Is  evident  that  by  this  Is  meant  not  a  physical,  but  a 
psychological  cosmogony.  The  world  arises  when  man 
discovers  It.  He  discovers  It  when  he  sacrifices  the 
mother;  that  Is  to  say,  when  he  has  freed  himself  from 
the  midst  of  his  unconscious  lying  In  the  mother.  Thar 
which  Impels  him  forward  to  this  discovery  may  be  In- 
terpreted psychologically  as  the  so-called  "  Incest  bar- 


V 


THE  SACRIFICE  459 

/  rier  "  of  Freud.  The  incest  prohibition  places  an  end  to 
the  childish  longing  for  the  food-giving  mother,  and  com- 
pels the  libido,  gradually  becoming  sexual,  into  the  path 
of  the  biological  aim.  The  libido  forced  away  from  the 
mother  by  the  incest  prohibition  seeks  for  the  sexual  ob- 
ject in  the  place  of  the  forbidden  mother.  In  this  wider 
psychologic  sense,  which  expresses  itself  in  the  allegoric 
language  of  the  "  incest  prohibition,"  "  mother,"  etc., 
must  be  understood  Freud's  paradoxical  sentence,  "  Orig- 
inally we  have  known  only  sexual  objects."  -^  This  sen- 
tence must  be  understood  psychologically  throughout,  in 
the  sense  of  a  world  image  created  from  within  out- 
wards, which  has,  in  the  first  place,  nothing  to  do  with 
the  so-called  "  objective  "  idea  of  the  world.  This  is  to 
be  understood  as  a  new  edition  of  the  subjective  idea  of 
the  world  corrected  by  reality.  Biology,  as  a  science  of 
objective  experience,  would  have  to  reject  uncondition- 
ally Freud's  proposition,  for,  as  we  have  made  clear 
above,  the  function  of  reality  can  only  be  partly  sexual; 
in  another  equally  important  part  it  is  self-preservation. 
The  matter  appears  different  for  that  thought  which  ac- 
companies the  biological  function  as  an  epiphenomenon. 
As  far  as  our  knowledge  reaches,  the  individual  act  of 
thought  is  dependent  wholly  or  in  greatest  part  on  the 
existence  of  a  highly  differentiated  brain,  whereas  the 
function  of  reality  (adaptation  to  reality)  is  something 
which  occurs  in  all  living  nature  as  wholly  independent 
from  the  act  of  thought.  This  important  proposition  of 
Freud's  applies  only  to  the  act  of  thought,  for  thinking, 
as  we  may  recognize  from  manifold  traces,  arose  dynami- 


46o       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

cally  from  the  libido,  which  was  split  off  from  the  original 
object  at  the  "  incest  barrier  "  and  became  actual  when 
the  first  budding  sexual  emotions  began  to  flow  in  the 
current  of  the  libido  which  goes  to  the  mother.  Through 
the  incest  barrier  the  sexual  Hbido  is  forced  away  from  the 
identification  with  the  parents,  and  introverted  for  lack 
of  adequate  activity.  It  is  the  sexual  libido  which  forces 
the  growing  individual  slowly  away  from  his  family.  If 
this  necessity  did  not  exist,  then  the  family  would  always 
remain  clustered  together  in  a  solid  group.  Hence  the 
neurotic  always  renounces  a  complete  erotic  experience," 
in  order  that  he  may  remain  a  child.  Phantasies  seem  to 
arise  from  the  introversion  of  the  sexual  libido.  Since  the 
first  childish  phantasies  most  certainly  do  not  attain  the 
qualityof  a  consciousplan,and  as  phantasies  likewise  (even 
among  adults)  are  almost  always  the  direct  derivates  of 
the  unconscious,  it  is,  therefore,  highly  probable  that  the 
first  phantastic  manifestations  arise  from  an  act  of  re- 
gression. As  we  illustrated  earlier,  the  regression  goes 
back  to  the  presexual  stage,  as  many  traces  show.  Here 
the  sexual  libido  obtains  again,  so  to  speak,  that  universal 
capacity  of  application,  or  capacity  for  displacement, 
which  it  actually  possessed  at  that  stage  when  the  sexual 
application  was  not  yet  discovered.  Naturally,  no  ade- 
quate object  is  found  in  the  presexual  stage  for  the  regres- 
sive sexual  libido,  but  only  surrogates,  which  always  leave 
a  wish;  namely,  the  wish  to  have  the  surrogate  as  similar 
as  possible  to  the  sexual  goal.  This  wish  is  secret,  how- 
ever, for  it  is  really  an  incest  wish.  The  unsatisfied  un- 
conscious  wish   creates   innumerable   secondary   objects. 


THE  SACRIFICE  461 

symbols  for  the  primitive  object,  the  mother  (as  the 
Rigveda  says,  the  creator  of  the  world,  "  hiding  his 
origin,"  enters  into  things).  From  this  the  thought  or 
the  phantasies  proceed,  as  a  desexualized  manifestation 
of  an  originally  sexual  libido. 

From  the  standpoint  of  the  libido,  the  term  "  incest 
barrier  "  corresponds  to  one  aspect,  but  the  matter,  how- 
ever, may  be  considered  from  another  point  of  view. 

The  time  of  undeveloped  sexuality,  about  the  third 
and  the  fourth  year,  is,  at  the  same  time,  considered  exter- 
nally, the  period  when  the  child  finds  himself  confronted 
with  increased  demands  from  the  world  of  reality.  He 
can  walk,  speak  and  independently  attend  to  a  number 
of  other  things.  He  sees  himself  in  a  relation  to  a 
world  of  unlimited  possibilities,  but  in  which  he  dares 
to  do  little  or  nothing,  because  he  is  as  yet  too  much  of 
a  baby  and  cannot  get  on  without  his  mother.  At  this 
time  mother  should  be  exchanged  for  the  world.  Against 
this  the  past  rises  as  the  greatest  resistance;  this  is 
always  so  whenever  man  would  undertake  a  new  adapta- 
tion. In  spite  of  all  evidence  and  against  all  conscious 
resolutions,  the  unconscious  (the  past)  always  enforces 
its  standpoint  as  resistance.  In  this  difficult  position,  pre- 
cisely at  this  period  of  developing  sexuality,  we  see  the 
dawning  of  the  mind.  The  problem  of  the  child  at  this 
period  is  the  discovery  of  the  world  and  of  the  great  trans- 
subjective  reality.  For  that  he  must  lose  the  mother; 
every  step  out  into  the  world  means  a  step  away  from 
the  mother.  Naturally,  all  that  which  Is  retrogressive  In 
men  rebels  against  this  step,  and  energetic  attempts  are 


462       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

made  against  this  adaptation  in  the  first  place.  There- 
fore, this  period  of  hfe  is  also  that  in  which  the  first 
clearly  developed  neuroses  arise.  The  tendency  of  this 
age  is  one  directly  opposed  to  that  of  dementia  prascox. 
The  child  seelcs  to  win  the  world  and  to  leave  the  mother 
(this  is  a  necessary  result).  The  dementia  praecox  pa- 
tient, however,  seeks  to  leave  the  world  and  to  regain  the 
subjectivity  of  childhood.  We  have  seen  that  in  de- 
mentia praecox  the  recent  adaptation  to  reality  is  replaced 
by  an  archaic  mode  of  adaptation;  that  is  to  say,  the 
recent  idea  of  the  world  is  rejected  in  favor  of  an  archaic 
idea  of  the  world.  When  the  child  renounces  his  task  of 
adaptation  to  reality,  or  has  considerable  difficulties  in 
this  direction,  then  we  may  expect  that  the  recent  adapta- 
tion will  again  be  replaced  by  archaic  modes  of  adapta- 
tion. It  would,  therefore,  be  conceivable  that  through 
regression  in  children  archaic  products  would  naturally 
be  unearthed;  that  is  to  say,  old  ways  of  functioning  of 
the  thought  system,  which  is  inborn  with  the  brain  dif- 
ferentiation, would  be  awakened. 

According  to  my  available  but  as  yet  unpublished  ma- 
terial, a  remarkably  archaic  and  at  the  same  time  gen- 
erally applicable  character  seems  to  appertain  to  infantile 
phantasy,  quite  comparable  with  the  products  of  demen- 
tia praecox.  It  does  not  seem  improbable  that  through 
regression  at  this  age  those  same  associations  of  elements 
and  analogies  are  reawakened  which  formerly  constituted 
the  archaic  idea  of  the  world.  When  we  now  attempt  to 
investigate  the  nature  of  these  elements,  a  glance  at  the 
psychology  of  myths  is   sufficient  to   show  us   that  the 


THE  SACRIFICE  463 

archaic  idea  was  chiefly  sexual  anthropomorphism.  It  ap- 
pears that  these  things  in  the  unconscious  childish  phan- 
tasy play  an  extraordinary  role,  as  we  can  recognize 
from  examples  taken  at  random.  Just  as  the  sexuaHsm  of 
neuroses  is  not  to  be  taken  literally  but  as  regressive  phan- 
tasy and  symbolic  compensation  for  a  recent  unachieved 
adaptation,  so  is  the  sexualism  of  the  early  infantile 
phantasy,  especially  the  incest  problem,  a  regressive 
product  of  the  revival  of  the  archaic  modes  of  function, 
outweighing  actuality.  On  this  account  I  have  expressed 
myself  very  vaguely  in  this  work,  I  am  sure,  in  regard  to 
the  incest  problem.  This  is  done  in  order  not  to  be  re- 
sponsible for  the  idea  that  I  understand  by  it  a  gross 
sexual  inclination  towards  the  parents.  The  true  facts 
of  the  case  are  much  more  complicated,  as  my  investiga- 
tions point  out.  Originally  incest  probably  never  pos- 
sessed particularly  great  significance  as  such,  because 
cohabitation  with  an  old  woman  for  all  possible  motives 
could  hardly  be  preferred  to  mating  with  a  young  woman. 
It  seems  that  the  mother  has  acquired  incestuous  sig- 
nificance only  psychologically.  Thus,  for  example,  the 
incestuous  unions  of  antiquity  were  not  a  result  of  a  love 
inclination,  but  of  a  special  superstition,  which  is  most 
intimately  bound  up  with  the  mythical  ideas  here  treated. 
A  Pharaoh  of  the  second  dynasty  is  said  to  have  mar- 
ried his  sister,  his  daughter  and  his  granddaughter;  the 
Ptolemies  were  accustomed  also  to  marriage  with  sis- 
ters; Kambyses  married  his  sister;  Artaxerxes  married 
his  two  daughters;  Qobad  I  (sixth  century  A.  D.)  mar- 
ried his  daughter.     The  Satrap  Sysimithres  married  his 


464       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

mother.  These  incestuous  unions  are  explained  by  the 
circumstance  that  in  the  Zend  Avesta  the  marriage  of  rela- 
tives was  directly  commanded  ;^^  it  emphasized  the  re- 
semblance of  rulers  to  the  divinity,  and,  therefore,  was 
more  of  an  artificial  than  a  natural  arrangement,  because 
it  originated  more  from  a  theoretical  than  from  a  bio- 
logical inclination.  (A  practical  impetus  towards  that  lay 
often  in  the  peculiar  laws  of  inheritance  left  over  from  the 
Mutter  recht,  "  maternal  right  "  [matriarchal],  period.) 
The  confusion  which  certainly  frequently  involved  the 
barbarians  of  antiquity  in  regard  to  the  choice  of  their 
sexual  objects  cannot  very  well  be  measured  by  the  stand- 
ard of  present-day  love  psychology.  In  any  case,  the 
incest  of  the  semi-animal  past  is  in  no  way  proportionate 
to  the  enormous  significance  of  the  incest  phantasy  among 
civilized  people.  This  disproportion  enforces  the  as- 
sumption that  the  incest  prohibition  which  we  meet  even 
amongst  relatively  lower  races  concerns  rather  the  mythi- 
cal ideas  than  the  biological  damage;  therefore,  the 
ethnical  prohibition  almost  always  concerns  the  mother 
and  seldom  the  father.  Incest  prohibition  can  be  under- 
stood, therefore,  as  a  result  of  regression,  and  as  the 
result  of  a  libidinous  anxiety,  which  regressively  attacks 
the  mother.  Naturally,  it  is  difficult  or  impossible  to 
say  from  whence  this  anxiety  may  have  come.  I  merely 
venture  to  suggest  that  it  may  have  been  a  question  of  a 
primitive  separation  of  the  pairs  of  opposites  which  are 
hidden  in  the  will  of  life:  the  will  for  life  and  for  death. 
It  remains  obscure  what  adaptation  the  primitive  man 
tried  to  evade  through  Introversion  and  regression  to  the 


THE  SACRIFICE  465 

parents;  but,  according  to  the  analogy  of  the  soul  Hfe 
in  general,  it  may  be  assumed  that  the  libido,  which  dis- 
turbed the  initial  equilibrium  of  becoming  and  of  ceasing 
to  be,  had  been  stored  up  in  the  attempt  to  make  an 
especially  difficult  adaptation,  and  from  which  it  recedes 
even  today. 

After  this  long  digression,  let  us  turn  back  to  the  song 
of  the  Rigveda.  Thinking  and  a  conception  of  the  world 
arose  from  a  shrinking  back  from  stern  reality,  and 
it  is  only  after  man  has  regressively  assured  himself 
again  of  the  protective  parental  power  ^*  that  he  enters 
life  wrapped  in  a  dream  of  childhood  shrouded  in  magic 
superstititions;  that  is  to  say,  "thinking,"'^  for  he,  tim- 
idly sacrificing  his  best  and  assuring  himself  of  the  favor 
of  the  invisible  powers,  step  by  step  develops  to  greater 
power,  in  the  degree  that  he  frees  himself  from  his  retro- 
gressive longing  and  the  original  lack  of  harmony  in  his 
being. 

Rigveda  10,  90,  concludes  with  the  exceedingly  sig- 
nificant verse,  which  is  of  greatest  importance  for  the 
Christian  mysteries  as  well: 

"  Gods,  sacrificing,  rendered  homage  to  the  sacrifice :  these  were 
the  earliest  holy  ordinances, 
The  mighty  ones  attained  the  height  of  heaven,  there  where  the 
Sadhyas,  goddesses  of  old,  are  dwelling." 

Through  the  sacrifice  a  fulness  of  power  was  attained, 
which  extends  up  to  the  power  of  the  "  parents,"  Thus 
the  sacrifice  has  also  the  meaning  of  a  psychologic  matu- 
ration process. 


466       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

In  the  same  manner  that  the  world  originated  through 
sacrifice,  through  the  renunciation  of  the  retrospective 
mother  libido,  thus,  according  to  the  teachings  of  the 
Upanishads,  is  produced  the  new  condition  of  man,  which 
may  be  termed  the  immortal.  This  new  condition  is 
again  attained  through  a  sacrifice;  namely,  through  the 
sacrificial  horse  which  is  given  a  cosmic  significance  in  the 
teaching  of  the  Upanishads.  What  the  sacrificial  horse 
means  is  told  by  Brihadaranyaka-Upanishad  i  :  i : 

"  Om! 

"  I.  The  dawn  is  truly  the  head  of  the  sacrificial  horse,  the  sun 
his  eye,  the  wind  his  breath,  his  mouth  the  all-spreading  fire,  the 
year  is  the  body  of  the  sacrificial  horse.  The  sky  is  his  back,  the 
atmosphere  his  body  cavity,  the  earth  the  vault  of  his  belly,  the 
poles  are  his  sides,  the  space  between  the  poles  his  ribs,  the  seasons 
his  limbs,  the  months  and  half-months  his  joints,  day  and  night 
his  feet,  the  stars  his  bones,  the  clouds  his  flesh,  the  food,  which  he 
digests,  are  the  deserts;  the  rivers,  his  veins;  liver  and  lungs,  the 
mountains ;  the  herbs  and  trees,  his  hair ;  the  rising  sun  is  his  fore- 
part, the  setting  sun  his  hind-part.  When  he  shows  his  teeth,  that 
is  lightning;  when  he  trembles,  that  is  thunder;  when  he  urinates, 
that  is  rain ;  his  voice  is  speech. 

"  2.  The  day,  in  truth,  has  originated  for  the  horse  as  the 
sacrificial  dish,  which  stands  before  him ;  his  cradle  is  in  the  world- 
sea  towards  the  East;  the  night  has  originated  for  him  as  the  sac- 
rificial dish,  which  stands  behind  him ;  its  cradle  is  in  the  world-sea 
of  the  evening;  these  two  dishes  originated  in  order  to  surround 
the  horse.  As  a  charger  he  generated  the  gods,  as  champion  he 
produced  the  Gandharvas,  as  a  racer  the  demons,  as  horse  man- 
kind.   The  Ocean  is  his  relative,  the  ocean  his  cradle." 

As  Deussen  remarks,  the  sacrificial  horse  has  the  sig- 
nificance of  a  renunciation  of  the  universe.  When  the 
horse  is  sacrificed,  then  the  world  is  sacrificed  and  de- 


THE  SACRIFICE  467 

stroyed,  as  it  were — a  train  of  thought  which  Schopen- 
hauer also  had  in  mind,  and  which  appears  as  a  product  of 
a  diseased  mind  in  Schreber.^®  The  horse  in  the  above 
text  stands  between  two  sacrificial  vessels,  from  one  of 
which  it  comes  and  to  the  other  of  which  it  goes,  just  as 
the  sun  passes  from  morning  to  evening.  The  horse, 
therefore,  signifies  the  libido,  which  has  passed  into  the 
world.  We  previously  saw  that  the  "  mother  libido  " 
must  be  sacrificed  in  order  to  produce  the  world;  here  the 
world  is  destroyed  by  the  repeated  sacrifice  of  the  same 
libido,  which  once  belonged  to  the  mother.  The  horse 
can,  therefore,  be  substituted  as  a  symbol  for  this  libido, 
because,  as  we  saw,  it  had  manifold  connections  with 
the  mother.^^  The  sacrifice  of  the  horse  can  only 
produce  another  state  of  introversion,  which  is  sim- 
ilar to  that  before  the  creation  of  the  world.  The 
position  of  the  horse  between  the  two  vessels,  which  rep- 
resent the  producing  and  the  devouring  mother,  hint  at 
the  idea  of  life  enclosed  in  the  ovum;  therefore,  the  ves- 
sels are  destined  to  "  surround  "  the  horse.  That  this 
is  actually  so  the  Brihadaranyaka-Upanishad  3  :  3  proves  : 

"  I.  From  where  have  the  descendants  of  Parikshit  come,  that 
I  ask  thee,  Yajiiavalkya!  From  where  came  the  descendants  of 
Parikshit? 

"2.  Yajnavalkya  spake:  'He  has  told  thee,  they  have  come 
from  where  all  come,  who  offer  up  the  sacrificial  horse.  That  is 
to  say,  this  world  extends  so  far  as  two  and  thirty  days  of  the 
chariot  of  the  Gods  (the  sun)  reach.  This  (world)  surrounds 
the  earth  twice  around.  This  earth  surrounds  the  ocean  twice 
around.  There  is,  as  broad  as  the  edge  of  a  razor  or  as  the  wing 
of  a  fly,  a  space  between  (the  two  shells  of  the  egg  of  the  world). 


468       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

These  were  brought  by  Indra  as  a  falcon  to  the  wind:  and  the 
wind  took  them  up  into  itself  and  carried  them  where  were  the 
offerers  of  the  sacrificial  horse.  Somewhat  like  this  he  spoke 
(Gandharva  to  thee)  and  praised  the  wind.' 

"Therefore  is  the  wind  the  special  (vyashti)  and  the  wind  the 
universal  (samashti).  He,  who  knows  this,  defends  himself  from 
dying  again." 

As  this  text  tells  us,  the  offerers  of  the  sacrificial  horse 
come  in  that  narrowest  fissure  between  the  shells  of  the 
egg  of  the  world,  at  that  place,  where  the  shells  unite  and 
where  they  are  divided.  The  fissure  (vagina)  in  the  ma- 
ternal world  soul  is  designated  by  Plato  in  "  Timaeus  "  by 
X,  the  symbol  of  the  cross.  Indra,  who  as  a  falcon  has 
stolen  the  soma  (the  treasure  attainable  v/ith  difficulty), 
brings,  as  Psychopompos,  the  souls  to  the  wind,  to  the 
generating  pneuma,  which  carries  them  forward  to  the 
fissure  or  vagina,  to  the  point  of  union,  to  the  entrance 
into  the  maternal  egg.  This  train  of  thought  of  the 
Hindoo  philosophy  briefly  and  concisely  summarizes  the 
sense  of  innumerable  myths;  at  the  same  time  it  Is  a 
striking  example  of  the  fact  that  philosophy  is  internally 
nothing  else  but  a  refined  and  sublimated  mythology.  It 
is  brought  to  this  refined  state  by  the  influence  of  the  cor- 
rector of  reality.'^  We  have  emphasized  the  fact  that 
In  the  Miller  drama  the  horse  Is  the  first  to  die,  as  the 
animal  brother  of  the  hero.  (Corresponding  to  the  early 
death  of  the  half-animal  EabanI,  the  brother  friend  of 
Gilgamesh.)  This  sacrificial  death  recalls  the  whole 
category  of  mythological  animal  sacrifices.  Volumes 
could  be  filled  with  parallels,  but  we  must  limit  ourselves 
here  to  suggestions.    The  sacrificial  animal,  where  It  has 


THE  SACRIFICE  469 

lost  the  primitive  meaning  of  the  simple  sacrificial  gift, 
and  has  taken  a  higher  religious  significance,  stands  in  a 
close  relation  to  both  the  hero  and  the  divinity.  The 
animal  represents  the  god  himself;  ^®  thus  the  bull  ^^  rep- 
resents Zagreus,  Dionysus  and  Mithra;  the  lamb  repre- 
sents Christ,^^  etc.  As  we  are  aware,  the  animal  symbols 
ifepresent  the  animal  libido.  The  sacrifice  of  the  animal 
jmeans,  therefore,  the  sacrifice  of  the  animal  nature.  This 
is  most  clearly  expressed  in  the  religious  legend  of  Attis. 
Attis  is  the  son  lover  of  the  divine  mother,  Agdistis  Cybele. 
Agdistis  was  characteristically  androgynous,^"  as  symbol 
of  the  mother-libido,  like  the  tree;  really  a  clear  indica- 
tion that  the  mother-imago  has  in  addition  to  the  sig- 
nificance of  the  likeness  of  the  real  mother  the  meaning 
of  the  mother  of  humanity,  the  libido  in  general.  Driven 
mad  by  the  insanity-breeding  mother  enamored  of  him, 
he  emasculates  himself,  and  that  under  a  pine  tree.  (The 
pine  tree  plays  an  important  role  in  his  service.  Every 
year  a  pine  tree  was  wreathed  about  and  upon  it  an 
image  of  Attis  was  hung,  and  then  it  was  cut  down,  which 
represents  the  castration.)  The  blood,  which  spurted  to 
the  earth,  was  transformed  into  budding  violets.  Cybele 
now  took  this  pine  tree,  bore  it  into  her  cavern  and  there 
wept  over  it.  (Pieta.)  The  chthonic  mother  takes  her 
son  with  her  into  the  cavern — namely,  into  the  womb — 
according  to  another  version.  Attis  was  transformed  into 
the  pine  tree.  The  tree  here  has  an  essentially  phallic 
meaning;  on  the  contrary,  the  attaching  of  the  image  of 
Attis  to  the  tree  refers  also  to  the  maternal  meaning. 
("To  be  attached  to  the  mother.")     In  Ovid  ("Meta- 


470       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

morphoses,"   Book  X)    the  pine   tree   is   spoken   of   as 
follows : 

"  Grata  deum  matri,  siquidem  Cybeleius  Attis 
Exuit  hac  hominem,  truncoque  induruit  illo."  * 

The  transformation  into  the  pine  tree  is  evidently  a 
burial  in  the  mother,  just  as  Osiris  was  overgrown  by  the 
heather.  Upon  the  Attis  bas-relief  of  Coblenz  Attis  ap- 
pears growing  out  of  a  tree,  which  is  interpreted  by 
Mannhardt  as  the  "  life-principle  "  of  vegetation  inherent 
in  the  tree.  It  is  probably  a  tree  birth,  just  as  with 
Mithra.  (Relief  of  Heddernheim.)  As  Firmicus  ob- 
serves, in  the  Isis  and  Osiris  cult  and  also  in  the  cult  of 
the  virgin  Persephone,  tree  and  image  had  played  a 
role."^  Dionysus  had  the  surname  Dendrites,  and  in 
Boeotia  he  is  said  to  have  been  called  i'vdevdpo?, 
meaning  "  in  a  tree."  (At  the  birth  of  Dionysus,  Me- 
gaira  planted  the  pine  tree  on  the  Kithairon.)  The  Pen- 
theus  myth  bound  up  with  the  Dionysus  legend  furnishes 
the  remarkable  and  supplementary  counterpart  to  the 
death  of  Attis,  and  the  subsequent  lamentation.  Pen- 
theus,^*  curious  to  espy  the  orgies  of  the  Maenades, 
climbed  upon  a  pine  tree,  but  he  was  observed  by  his 
mother;  the  Maenades  cut  down  the  tree,  and  Pentheus, 
taken  for  an  animal,  was  torn  by  them  in  frenzy,"^  his 
own  mother  being  the  first  to  rush  upon  him.  In  this 
myth  the  phaUic  meaning  of  the  tree  (cutting  down,  cas- 
tration) and  its  maternal  significance  (mounting  and  the 

*  Beloved  of  the  mother  of  the  gods,  inasmuch  as  the  Cybeline  Attis 
sheds  his  human  shape  in  this  way  and  stiffens  into  this  tree  trunk. 


THE  SACRIFICE  471 

sacrificial  death  of  the  son)  is  present;  at  the  same  time 
the  supplementary  counterpart  to  the  Pieta  is  apparent, 
the  "  terrible  mother."  The  feast  of  Attis  was  cele- 
brated as  a  lamentation  and  then  as  a  joy  in  the  spring. 
(Good  Friday  and  Easter.)  The  priests  of  Attis-Cybele 
worship  were  often  eunuchs,  and  were  called  Galloi.^® 
The  archigallus  was  called  Atys  (Attis). ^^  Instead  of 
the  animal  castration,  the  priests  merely  scratched  their 
arms  until  they  bled.  (Arm  in  place  of  phallus,  "  the 
twisting  of  arms.")  A  similar  symbolism  of  the  sac- 
rificial impulse  is  met  in  the  Mithraic  religion,  where  es- 
sential parts  of  the  mysteries  consist  in  the  catching  and 
the  subduing  of  the  bull. 

A  parallel  figure  to  Mithra  is  the  primitive  man  Gayo- 
mard.  He  was  created  together  with  his  bull,  and  the 
two  hved  for  six  thousand  years  in  a  blissful  state.  But 
when  the  world  came  into  the  cycle  of  the  seventh  sign 
of  the  Zodiac  (Libra)  the  evil  principle  entered.  Libra 
is  astrologically  the  so-called  positive  domicile  of  Venus; 
the  evil  principle,  therefore,  came  under  the  dominion 
of  the  goddess  of  love  (destruction  of  the  sun-hero 
through  the  mother-wife — snake,  whore,  etc).  As  a  re- 
sult, after  thirty  years,  Gayomard  and  his  bull  died. 
(The  trials  of  Zartusht  lasted  also  thirty  years;  compare 
the  span  of  Christ's  life.)  Fifty-five  species  of  grain 
came  from  the  dead  bull,  twelve  kinds  of  salubrious 
plants,  etc.  The  sperma  of  the  bull  entered  into  the  moon 
for  purification,  but  the  sperma  of  Gayomard  entered 
Into  the  sun.  This  circumstance  possibly  suggests  a  rather 
feminine  meaning  of  bull.     Gosh  or  Drvagpa  is  the  soul 


472       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

of  the  bull,  and  was  worshipped  as  a  female  divinity.  She 
would  not,  at  first,  from  diffidence,  become  the  goddess 
of  the  herds,  until  the  coming  of  Zarathustra  was  an- 
nounced to  her  as  consolation.  This  has  its  parallel  in 
the  Hindoo  Purana,  where  the  coming  of  Krishna  was 
promised  the  earth.  (A  complete  analogy  to  Christ.^^) 
She,  too,  travels  in  her  chariot,  like  Ardvigiara,  the  god- 
dess of  love.  The  soul  of  the  bull  is,  therefore,  decidedly 
feminine.  This  myth  of  Gayomard  repeats  only  In  an 
altered  form  the  primitive  conception  of  the  closed  ring 
of  a  male-female  divinity,  self-begetting  and  forth-bring- 
ing. 

Like  the  sacrificial  bull,  the  fire,  the  sacrifice  of  which 
we  have  already  discussed  in  Chapter  III,  has  a  feminine 
nature  among  the  Chinese,  according  to  the  commen- 
taries ^^  of  the  philosopher  Tschwang-Tse : 

"  The  spirit  of  the  hearth  is  called  Ki.  He  is  clad  in  bright  fed, 
which  resembles  fire,  and  appears  as  a  lovely,  attractive  maiden." 

In  the  "  Book  of  Rites  "  it  is  said: 

"  Wood  is  burned  in  the  flames  for  the  spirit  of  Au.  This 
sacrifice  to  Au  is  a  sacrifice  to  old  departed  women." 

These  spirits  of  the  hearth  and  fire  are  the  souls  of  de- 
parted cooks  and,  therefore,  are  called  "  old  women." 
The  kitchen  god  develops  from  this  pre-Buddhistic  tra- 
dition and  becomes  later  (male  sex)  the  ruler  of  the 
family  and  the  mediator  between  family  and  god.  Thus 
the  old  feminine  fire  spirit  becomes  a  species  of  Logos. 
(Compare  with  this  the  remarks  in  Chapter  IIL) 


THE  SACRIFICE  473 

From  the  bull's  sperma  the  progenitors  of  the  cattle 
came,  as  well  as  two  hundred  and  seventy-two  species  of 
useful  animals.  According  to  Minokhired,  Gayomard 
had  destroyed  the  Dev  Azur,  who  was  considered  the 
demon  of  evil  appetites/"  In  spite  of  the  efforts  of  Zara- 
thustra,  this  demon  remained  longest  on  the  earth.  He 
was  destroyed  at  last  at  the  resurrection,  like  Satan  in  the 
Apocalypse  of  John.  In  another  version  it  is  said  that 
Angromainyus  and  the  serpent  were  left  until  the  last, 
so  as  to  be  destroyed  by  Ahuramazda  himself.  Accord- 
ing to  a  surmise  by  Kern,  Zarathustra  may  mean  "  golden- 
star  "  and  be  identical  with  Mithra.  Mithra's  name  is 
connected  with  neo-Persian  Mihr,  which  means  "  sun  and 
love." 

In  Zagreus  we  see  that  the  bull  Is  also  Identical  with 
the  god;  hence  the  bull  sacrifice  Is  a  god  sacrifice,  but  on 
a  primitive  stage.  The  animal  symbol  Is,  so  to  speak, 
only  a  part  of  the  hero;  he  sacrifices  only  his  animal; 
therefore,  symbolically,  renounces  only  his  animal  nature. 
The  Internal  participation  In  the  sacrifice  "  is  expressed 
excellently  in  the  anguished  ecstatic  countenance  of  the 
bull-slaying  Mithra.  He  does  it  willingly  and  unwill- 
ingly ^^  hence  the  somewhat  hysterical  expression  which 
has  some  similarity  to  the  well-known  mawkish  counte- 
nance of  the  Crucified  of  Guldo  Renl.    Benndorf  says :  *^ 

"  The  features,  which,  especially  in  the  upper  portion,  bear  an 
absolutely  ideal  character,  have  an  extremely  morbid  expression." 

Cumont  **  himself  says  of  the  facial  expression  of  the 
Tauroctonos : 


474       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

"  The  countenance,  which  may  be  seen  in  the  best  reproduc- 
tions, is  that  of  a  young  man  of  an  almost  feminine  beauty;  the 
head  has  a  quantity  of  curly  hair,  which,  rising  up  from  the  fore- 
head, surrounds  him  as  with  a  halo;  the  head  is  slightly  tilted 
backwards,  so  that  the  glance  is  directed  towards  the  heavens,  and 
the  contraction  of  the  brows  and  the  lips  give  a  strange  expres- 
sion of  sorrow  to  the  face."  *^ 

The  Ostian  head  of  MIthra  Tauroctonos,  illustrated 
in  Cumont,  has,  indeed,  an  expression  which  we  recognize 
in  our  patients  as  one  of  sentimental  resignation.  Sen- 
timentality is  repressed  brutality.  Hence  the  exceed- 
ingly sentimental  pose,  which  had  its  counterpart  in  the 
symbolism  of  the  shepherd  and  the  lamb  of  contem- 
poraneous Christianity,  with  the  addition  of  infan- 
tilism.*' 

Meanwhile,  it  is  only  his  animal  nature  wliich  the  god 
sacrifices;  that  is  to  say,  his  sexuality,*^  always  in  close 
analogy  to  the  course  of  the  sun.  We  have  learned  in 
the  course  of  this  investigation  that  the  part  of  the  libido 
which  erects  religious  structures  is  in  the  last  analysis 
fixed  in  the  mother,  and  really  represents  that  tie  through 
which  we  are  permanently  connected  with  our  origin. 
Briefly,  we  may  designate  this  amount  of  libido  as 
"  Mother  Libido."  As  we  have  seen,  this  libido  conceals 
itself  in  countless  and  very  heterogeneous  symbols,  also 
in  animal  images,  no  matter  whether  of  masculine  or  fem- 
inine nature — differences  of  sex  are  at  bottom  of  a  sec- 
ondary value  and  psychologically  do  not  play  the  part 
which  might  be  expected  from  a  superficial  observation. 

The  annual  sacrifice  of  the  maiden  to  the  dragon  prob- 
ably represented  the  most  ideal  symbolic  situation.     In 


THE  SACRIFICE  475 

order  to  pacify  the  anger  of  the  "  terrible  mother  "  the 
most  beautiful  woman  was  sacrificed  as  symbol  of  man's 
libido.  Less  vivid  examples  are  the  sacrifice  of  the  first- 
born and  various  valuable  domestic  animals.  A  second 
ideal  case  is  the  self-castration  in  the  service  of  the  mother 
(Dea  Syria,  etc.),  a  less  obvious  form  of  which  is  circum- 
cision. By  that  at  least  only  a  portion  is  sacrificed.*^ 
With  these  sacrifices,  the  object  of  which  in  ideal  cases 
is  to  symbolize  the  libido  drawing  away  from  the  mother, 
life  is  symbolically  renounced  in  order  to  regain  it.  By 
the  sacrifice  man  ransoms  himself  from  the  fear  of  death 
and  reconciles  the  destroying  mother.  In  those  later  re- 
ligions, where  the  hero,  who  in  olden  times  overcomes  all 
evil  and  death  through  his  labors,  has  become  the  divine 
chief  figure,  he  becomes  the  priestly  sacrificer  and  the 
regenerator  of  life.  But  as  the  hero  is  an  imaginary 
figure  and  his  sacrifice  is  a  transcendental  mystery,  the 
significance  of  which  far  exceeds  the  value  of  an  or- 
dinary sacrificial  gift,  this  deepening  of  the  sacrificial 
symbolism  regressively  resumes  the  idea  of  the  human 
sacrifice.  This  is  partly  due  to  the  preponderance  of 
phantastic  additions,  which  always  take  their  subject- 
matter  from  greater  depths,  and  partly  due  to  the  higher 
religious  occupation  of  the  libido,  which  demanded  a  more 
complete  and  equivalent  expression.  Thus  the  relation 
between  Mithra  and  his  bull  is  very  close.  It  is  the  hero 
himself  in  the  Christian  mysteries  who  sacrifices  himself 
voluntarily.  The  hero,  as  we  have  sufficiently  shown,  is 
the  infantile  personality  longing  for  the  mother,  who  as 
Mithra   sacrifices  the  wish    (the  libido),   and  as   Christ 


476       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

gives  himself  to  death  both  willingly  and  unwillingly. 
Upon  the  monuments  of  the  Mithraic  religion  we  often 
meet  a  strange  symbol:  a  crater  (mixing  bowl)  encoiled 
by  a  serpent,  sometimes  with  a  lion,  who  as  antagonist 
opposes  the  serpent.*''  It  appears  as  if  the  two  were 
fighting  for  the  crater.  The  crater  symbolizes,  as  we 
have  seen,  the  mother,  the  serpent  the  resistance  defend- 
ing her,  and  the  lion  the  greatest  strength  and  strongest 
will.^°  The  struggle  is  for  the  mother.  The  serpent  takes 
part  almost  regularly  in  the  Mithraic  sacrifice  of  the 
bull,  moving  towards  the  blood  flowing  from  the  wound. 
It  seems  to  follow  from  that  that  the  life  of  the  bull 
(blood)  is  sacrificed  to  the  serpent.  Previously  we  have 
pointed  out  the  mutual  relationship  between  serpent  and 
bull,  and  found  there  that  the  bull  symbolizes  the  living 
hero,  the  shining  sun,  but  that  the  serpent  symbolizes  the 
dead,  buried  or  chthonic  hero,  the  invisible  sun.  As  the 
hero  is  in  the  mother  in  the  state  of  death,  the  serpent 
is  also,  as  the  symbol  of  the  fear  of  death,  the  sign  of 
the  devouring  mother.  The  sacrifice  of  the  bull  to  the 
serpent,  therefore,  signifies  a  willing  renunciation  of  life, 
in  order  to  win  it  from  death.  Therefore,  after  the  sac- 
rifice of  the  bull,  wonderful  fertility  results.  The  an- 
tagonism between  serpent  and  lion  over  the  crater  is  to 
be  interpreted  as  a  battle  over  the  fruitful  mother's 
womb,  somewhat  comparable  to  the  more  simple  symbol- 
ism of  the  Tishtriya  song,  where  the  demon  Apaosha, 
the  black  horse,  has  possession  of  the  rain  lake,  and  the 
white  horse,  Tishtriya,  must  banish  him  from  it.  Death 
from  time  to  time  lays  its  destroying  hand  upon  life  and 


THE  SACRIFICE  477 

fertility  and  the  libido  disappears,  by  entering  into  the 
mother,  from  whose  womb  it  will  be  born  renewed.  It, 
therefore,  seems  very  probable  that  the  significance  of 
the  Mithraic  bull  sacrifice  is  also  that  of  the  sacrifice  of 
the  mother  who  sends  the  fear  of  death.  As  the  contrary 
of  the  Occide  moriturus  is  also  intended  here,  so  is  the 
act  of  sacrifice  an  impregnating  of  the  mother;  the 
chthonic  snake  demon  drinks  the  blood;  that  is  to  say,  the 
libido  (sperma)  of  the  hero  committing  incest.  Life  is 
thus  immortalized  for  the  hero  because,  like  the  sun,  he 
generates  himself  anew.  After  all  the  preceding  mate- 
rials, it  can  no  longer  be  difficult  to  recognize  in  the 
Christian  mysteries  the  human  sacrifice,  or  the  sacrifice 
of  the  son  to  the  mother. ^^  Just  as  Attis  emasculates 
himself  on  account  of  the  mother,  so  does  Christ  himself 
hang  upon  the  tree  of  life,^-  the  wood  of  martyrdom, 
the  inarii,^  the  chthonic  mother,  and  by  that  redeems 
creation  from  death.  By  entering  again  into  the  mother's 
womb  (Matuta,  Pieta  of  Michelangelo)  he  redeems  in 
death  the  sin  in  life  of  the  primitive  man,  Adam,  in 
order  symbolically  through  his  deed  ^^  to  procure  for  the 
innermost  and  most  hidden  meaning  of  the  religious 
libido  its  highest  satisfaction  and  most  pronounced  ex- 
pression. The  martyrdom  of  Christ  has  in  Augustine  as 
well  actually  the  meaning  of  a  Hierosgamos  with  the 
mother  (corresponding  to  the  Adonis  festival,  where 
Venus  and  Adonis  were  laid  upon  the  nuptial  couch)  : 

"  Procedit   Christus   quasi   sponsus   de    thalamo   suo,    prssagio 
nuptiarum   exiit   ad    campum   sasculi;    pervenit   usque   ad    crucis 

*  Hecate. 


478       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

torum  (torus  has  the  meaning  of  bed,  pillow,  concubine,  bier)  et 
ibi  firmavit  ascendendo  conjugium:  ubi  cum  sentiret  anhelantem 
in  suspiriis  creaturam  commercio  pietatis  se  pro  conjuge  dedit  ad 
poenam  et  copulavit  sibi  perpetuo  iure  matronam." 

This  passage  is  perfectly  clear.  A  similar  death  over- 
takes the  Syrian  Melcarth,  who,  riding  upon  a  sea  horse, 
was  annually  burned.  Among  the  Greeks  he  is  called 
Melicertes,  and  was  represented  riding  upon  a  dolphin. 
The  dolphin  is  also  the  steed  of  Arion.  We  have  learned 
to  recognize  previously  the  maternal  significance  of 
dolphin,  so  that  in  the  death  of  Melcarth  we  can  once 
more  recognize  the  negatively  expressed  Hierosgamos 
with  the  mother.  (Compare  Frazer  "  Golden  Bough," 
IV,  p.  87.)  This  figurative  expression  is  of  the  greatest 
teleological  significance.  Through  its  symbol  it  leads 
that  libido  which  inclines  backward  into  the  original, 
primitive  and  impulsive  upwards  to  the  spiritual  by  in- 
vesting it  with  a  mysterious  but  fruitful  function.  It  is 
superfluous  to  speak  of  the  effect  of  this  symbol  upon 
the  unconscious  of  Occidental  humanity.  A  glance  over 
history  shows  what  creative  forces  were  released  in  this 
symbol.^* 

The  comparison  of  the  Mithraic  and  the  Christian 
sacrifice  plainly  shows  wherein  lies  the  superiority  of  the 
Christian  symbol;  it  is  the  frank  admission  that  not  only 
are  the  lower  wishes  to  be  sacrificed,  but  the  whole  per- 
sonality. The  Christian  symbol  demands  complete  de- 
votion; it  compels  a  veritable  self-sacrifice  to  a  higher 
purpose,  while  the  Sacrificium  Mithriacum,  remaining 
fixed  on  a  primitive  symbolic  stage,  is  contented  with  an 


THE  SACRIFICE  479 

animal  sacrifice.  The  religious  effect  of  these  symbols 
must  be  considered  as  an  orientation  of  the  unconscious 
by  means  of  imitation. 

In  Miss  Miller's  phantasy  there  is  internal  compul- 
sion, in  that  she  passes  from  the  horse  sacrifice  to  the 
self-sacrifice  of  the  hero.  Whereas  the  first  symbolizes 
renunciation  of  the  sexual  wishes,  the  second  has  the 
deeper  and  ethically  more  valuable  meaning  of  the  sac- 
rifice of  the  infantile  personality.  The  object  of  psycho- 
analysis has  frequently  been  wrongly  understood  to  mean 
the  renunciation  or  the  gratification  of  the  ordinary  sexual 
wish,  while,  in  reality,  the  problem  is  the  sublimation  of 
the  infantile  personality,  or,  expressed  mythologically,  a 
sacrifice  and  rebirth  of  the  infantile  hero.^^  In  the  Chris- 
tian mysteries,  however,  the  resurrected  one  becomes  a 
supermundane  spirit,  and  the  invisible  kingdom  of  God, 
with  its  mysterious  gifts,  are  obtained  by  his  believers 
through  the  sacrifice  of  himself  on  the  mother.  In 
psychoanalysis  the  infantile  personality  is  deprived  of  its 
libido  fixations  in  a  rational  manner;  the  libido  which  is 
thus  set  free  serves  for  the  building  up  of  a  personality 
matured  and  adapted  to  reality,  who  does  willingly  and 
without  complaint  everything  required  by  necessity.  (It 
is,  so  to  speak,  the  chief  endeavor  of  the  infantile  person- 
ality to  struggle  against  all  necessities  and  to  create  coer- 
cions for  itself  where  none  exist  in  reality.) 

The  serpent  as  an  instrument  of  sacrifice  has  already 
been  abundantly  illustrated.  (Legend  of  St.  Silvester, 
trial  of  the  virgins,  wounding  of  Re  and  Philoctetes,  sym- 
bolism of  the  lance  and  arrow.)      It  is  the  destroying 


/ 


48o       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

knife;  but,  according  to  the  principle  of  the  "  Occide 
morlturus  "  also  the  phallus,  the  sacrificial  act  represents 
a  coitus  act  as  well.^''  The  religious  significance  of  the 
serpent  as  a  cave-dwelling,  chthonic  animal  points  to  a 
further  thought;  namely,  to  the  creeping  into  the 
mother's  womb  in  the  form  of  a  serpent."  As  the  horse 
is  the  brother,  so  the  serpent  is  the  sister  of  Chiwantopel. 
This  close  relation  refers  to  a  fellowship  of  these  animals 
and  their  characters  with  the  hero.  We  know  of  the 
horse  that,  as  a  rule,  he  is  not  an  animal  of  fear,  although, 
mythologically,  he  has  at  times  this  meaning.  He  sig- 
nifies much  more  the  living,  positive  part  of  the  libido, 
the  striving  towards  continual  renewal,  whereas  the  ser- 
pent, as  a  rule,  represents  the  fear,  the  fear  of  death, ^^ 
and  is  thought  of  as  the  antithesis  to  the  phallus.  This 
antithesis  between  horse  and  serpent,  mythologically  be- 
tween bull  and  serpent,  represents  an  opposition  of  the 
libido  within  itself,  a  striving  forwards  and  a  striving 
backwards  at  one  and  the  same  time.^®  It  is  not  only 
as  if  the  libido  might  be  an  irresistible  striving  forward, 
an  endless  life  and  will  for  construction,  such  as  Schopen- 
hauer has  formulated  In  his  world  will,  death  and  every 
end  being  some  malignancy  or  fatality  coming  from  with- 
out, but  the  libido,  corresponding  to  the  sun,  also  wills 
the  destruction  of  its  creation.  In  the  first  half  of  life 
its  will  is  for  growth,  in  the  second  half  of  life  it  hints, 
softly  at  first,  and  then  audibly,  at  its  will  for  death. 
And  just  as  in  youth  the  impulse  to  unlimited  growth  often 
lies  under  the  enveloping  covering  of  a  resistance  against 
life,  so  also  does  the  will  of  the  old  to  die  frequently  lie 


THE  SACRIFICE  481 

under  the  covering  of  a  stubborn  resistance  against  the 
end. 

This  apparent  contrast  in  the  nature  of  the  libido  is 
strikingly  illustrated  by  a  Priapic  statuette  in  the  antique 
collection  at  Verona.^"  Priapus  smilingly  points  with  his 
finger  to  a  snake  biting  off  his  "  membrum."    He  carries 


PRIAPUS   AND   SERPENT 


a  basket  on  his  arm,  filled  with  oblong  objects,  probably 
phalli,  evidently  prepared  as  substitutes. 

A  similar  motive  is  found  in  the  "  Deluge  "  of  Rubens 
(in  the  Munich  Art  Gallery),  where  a  serpent  emascu- 
lates a  man.  This  motive  explains  the  meaning  of  the 
"Deluge";  the  maternal  sea  is  also  the  devouring 
mother.*'^  The  phantasy  of  the  world  conflagration,  of 
the  cataclysmic  end  of  the  world  in  general,  is  nothing 
but  a  mythological  projection  of  a  personal  individual 
will  for  death;  therefore,  Rubens  could  represent  the 
essence  of  the  "  Deluge  "  phantasy  in  the  emasculation 
by  the  serpent;  for  the  serpent  is  our  own  repressed  will 


482       PSYCHOLOGY  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

for  the  end,  for  which  we  find  an  explanation  only  with 
the  greatest  difficulty. 

Concerning  the  symbolism  of  the  serpent  in  general,  Its 
significance  Is  very  dependent  upon  the  time  of  life  and 
circumstances.  The  repressed  sexuality  of  youth  Is  sym- 
bolized by  the  serpent,  because  the  arrival  of  sexuality 
puts  an  end  to  childhood.  To  age,  on  the  contrary,  the 
serpent  signifies  the  repressed  thought  of  death.  With 
our  author  it  is  the  Insufficiently  expressed  sexuality 
which  as  serpent  assumes  the  role  of  sacrificer  and  de- 
livers the  hero  over  to  death  and  rebirth. 

As  in  the  beginning  of  our  Investigation  the  hero's 
name  forced  us  to  speak  of  the  symbolism  of  Popocate- 
petl as  belonging  to  the  creating  part  of  the  human  body, 
so  at  the  end  does  the  Miller  drama  again  give  us  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  how  the  volcano  assists  In  the 
death  of  the  hero  and  causes  him  to  disappear  by  means 
of  an  earthquake  Into  the  depths  of  the  earth.  As  the 
volcano  gave  birth  and  name  to  the  hero,  so  at  the  end  of 
the  day  it  devours  him  again. ^^  We  learn  from  the  last 
words  of  the  hero  that  his  longed-for  beloved,  she  who 
alone  understands  him,  Is  called  Ja-nl-wa-ma.  We  find 
In  this  name  those  lisped  syllables  familiar  to  us  from 
the  early  childhood  of  the  hero,  Hiawatha,  Wawa,  wama, 
mama.  The  only  one  who  really  understands  us  Is  the 
mother.  For  verstehen,  "to  understand"  (Old  High 
German  firs  tan),  is  probably  derived  from  a  primitive 
Germanic  prefix  fri,  Identical  with  Ttepi,  meaning  "  round- 
about." The  Old  High  German  antfriston,  "  to  Inter- 
pret," Is  considered  as  Identical  with  firstdn.     From  that 


THE  SACRIFICE  483 

results  a  fundamental  significance  of  the  verb  verstehen, 
"  to  understand,"  as  "  standing  round  about  some- 
thing." ^^  Comprehendei  e  and  >.ataffv][.Xaju/3dv€iv  ex- 
press a  similar  idea  as  the  German  erfassen,  "  to  grasp, 
to  comprehend."  The  thing  common  to  these  expres- 
sions is  the  surrounding,  the  enfolding.  And  there  is  no 
doubt  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  which  so  com- 
pletely enfolds  us  as  the  mother.  When  the  neurotic 
complains  that  the  world  has  no  understanding,  he  says 
indirectly  that  he  misses  the  mother.  Paul  Verlaine  has 
expressed  this  thought  most  beautifully  in  his  poem, 
"  Mon  Reve  Familier  "  : 

My  Familiar  Dream. 

"  Often  I  have  that  strange  and  poignant  dream 

Of  some  unknown  who  meets  my  flame  with  flame — 
Who,  with  each  time,  is  never  quite  the  same, 

Yet  never  wholly  different  does  she  seem. 

She  understands  me!     Every  fitful  gleam 

Troubling  my  heart,  she  reads  aright  somehow: 
Even  the  sweat  upon  my  pallid  brow 

She  soothes  with  tears,  a  cool  and  freshening  stream. 

"  If  she  is  dark  or  fair?    I  do  not  know — 
Her  name?    Only  that  it  is  sweet  and  low, 

Like  those  of  loved  ones  who  have  long  since  died. 
Her  look  is  like  a  statue's,  kind  and  clear ; 

And  her  calm  voice,  distant  and  dignified. 
Like  those  hushed  voices  that  I  loved  to  hear." 


NOTES 


PART  I 

INTRODUCTION 

*  He  is  said  to  have  killed  himself  when  he  heard  that  she  whom  he 
so  passionately  adored  was  his  mother. 

^  "  Wish  Fulfilment  and  Symbolism  in  Fairy  Tales."  Tr.  by  W.  A. 
White,  M.D. 

^  "  Dream  and  Myth."     Deuticke,  Wien  1909. 

* "  The  Myth  of  the  Birth  of  the  Hero." 

* "  Die  Symbolik  in  den  Legenden,  Marchen,  Gebrauchen  und 
Traumen."     Psychiatrisch.-Neurologisclie  Wochenschrift,  X.  Jahrgang. 

'  "  On  the  Nightmare."    Amer.  Journ.  of  Insanity,  1910. 

''  Jahrbuch,  1910,  Pt.  II. 

*  "  Die  Frommigkeit  des  Grafen  Ludwig  von  Zinzendorf.  Ein  psycho- 
analytischer  Beitrag  zur  Kenntnis  der  religiosen  Sublimationprozesse 
und  zur  Erklarung  des  Pietismus."  Deuticke,  Wien  1910.  We  have  a 
suggestive  hint  in  Freud's  work,  "  Eine  Kindheitserinnerung  des 
Leonardo  da  Vinci."     Deuticke,  Wien  1910. 

*  Compare  Rank  in  Jahrbuch,  Pt.  II,  p.  465. 


CHAPTER  I 

*  Compare  Liepmann,  "  Uber  Ideenflucht,"  Halle  1904;  also  Jung, 
"  Diagnost.  Assoc.  Stud.,"  p.  103:  "  Denken  als  Unterordnung  unter  eine 
herrschende  Vorstellung";  compare  Ebbinghaus,  "  Kultur  der  Gegen- 
wart,"  p.  221.  Kijlpe  ("  Gr.  d.  Psychologie,"  p.  464)  expresses  himself 
in  a  similar  manner:  "In  thinking  it  is  a  question  of  an  anticipatory 
apperception  which  sometimes  governs  a  greater,  sometimes  a  smaller 
circle  of  individual  reproductions,  and  is  differentiated  from  accidental 
motives  of  reproduction  only  by  the  consequence  with  which  all  things 
outside  this  circle  are  held  back  or  repressed." 

^  In  his  "  Psychologia  empirica  meth.  scientif.  pertract.,"  etc.,  1732, 
p.  23,  Christian  Wolff  says  simply  and  precisely:  "  Cogitatio  est  actus 
animae  quo  sibi  rerumque  aliarum  extra  se  conscia  est." 

°  The  moment  of  adaptation  is  emphasized  especially  by  William 
James  in  his  definition  of  reasoning:  "Let  us  make  this  ability  to  deal 
with  novel  data  the  technical  differentia  of  reasoning.  This  will 
sufficiently  mark  it  out  from  common  associative  thinking,  and  will 
immediately  enable  us  to  say  just  what  peculiarity  it  contains." 

^"Thoughts  are  shadows  of  our  experiences,  always  darker,  emptier, 

485 


486  THE  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING    [pp.  8-41 

simpler  than  these,"  says  Nietzsche.  Lotze  ("Logik,"  p.  552)  expresses 
himself  in  regard  to  this  as  follows:  "Thought,  left  to  the  logical  laws 
of  its  movement,  encounters  once  more  at  the  end  of  its  regularly 
traversed  course  the  things  suppressed  or  hidden." 

"  Compare  the  remarks  of  Baldwin  following  in  text.  The  eccentric 
philosopher  Johann  Georg  Hamann  (1730-88)  even  places  intelligence 
and  speech  as  identical  (see  Hamann's  writings,  pub.  by  Roth, 
Berlin  1821).  With  Nietzsche  intelligence  fares  even  worse  as  "speech 
metaphysics"  (Sprachmetaphysik).  Friedrich  Mauthner  goes  the  furthest 
in  this  conception  ("Sprache  und  Psychologic,"  1901).  For  him  there 
exists  absolutely  no  thought  without  speech,  and  speaking  is  thinking. 
His  idea  of  the  "  fetish  of  the  word  "  governing  in  science  is  worthy  of 
notice. 

*  Compare  Kleinpaul:  "Das  Leben  der  Sprache,"  3  Bande.  Leipzig 
1893. 

^  "  Jardin  d'Epicure,"  p.  80. 

*  It  is  difficult  to  calculate  how  great  is  the  seductive  influence  of  the 
primitive  word-meaning  upon  a  thought.  "  Anything  which  has  even  been 
in  consciousness  remains  as  an  affective  moment  in  the  unconscious,"  says 
Hermann  Paul  ("Prinzipien  der  Sprachgeschichte,"  4th  ed.,  1909,  p. 
25).  The  old  word-meanings  have  an  after-effect,  chiefly  imperceptible, 
"within  the  dark  chamber  of  the  unconscious  in  the  Soul  "  (Paul).  J.  G. 
Hamann,  mentioned  above,  expresses  himself  unequivocably :  "Meta- 
physics reduces  all  catchwords  and  all  figures  of  speech  of  our  empirical 
knowledge  to  empty  hieroglyphics  and  types  of  ideal  relations."  It  is 
said  that  Kant  learned  some  things  from  Hamann. 

*  "  Grundriss  der  Psychologic,"  p.  365. 
^^  "  Lehrbuch  der  Psychologic,"  X,  26. 

**  James  Mark  Baldwin :  "  Thought  and  Things,  or  Genetic  Logic." 

^^  In  this  connection  I  must  refer  to  an  experiment  which  Eber- 
schweilcr  {Allgiemeine  Zeitschrift  fiir  Psychiatrie,  1908)  has  made  at  my 
request,  which  discloses  the  remarkable  fact  that  in  an  association  experi- 
ment the  intrapsychic  association  is  influenced  by  phonetic  considerations 
("  Untersuchungen  iiber  den  Einfluss  der  sprachlichen  Komponente  auf  die 
Assoziation,"  Allgemeine  Zeitschrift  fiir  Psychiatrie,  1908). 

^'  So  at  least  this  form  of  thought  appears  to  Consciousness.  Freud 
says  in  this  connection  ("The  Interpretation  of  Dreams,"  tr.  by  Brill, 
p.  418)  :  "It  is  demonstrably  incorrect  to  state  that  we  abandon  ourselves 
to  an  aimless  course  of  ideas  when  we  relinquish  our  reflections,  and 
allow  the  unwilled  ideas  to  emerge.  It  can  be  shown  that  we  are  able 
to  reject  only  those  end-presentations  known  to  us,  and  that  immediately 
upon  the  cessation  of  these  unknown  or,  as  we  inaccurately  say,  uncon- 
scious end-presentations  come  into  play  which  now  determine  the  course 
of  the  unwilled  ideas — a  thought  without  end-presentation  cannot  be 
produced  through  any  influence  we  can  exert  on  our  own  psychic  life." 

^*  "  Grundriss  der  Psychologic,"  p.  464. 

'"  Behind  this  assertion  stand,  first  of  all,  experiences  taken  from  the 
field  of  the  normal.  The  undirected  thinking  is  very  far  removed  from 
"  meditation,"  and  especially  so  as  far  as  readiness  of  speech  is  con- 
cerned.    In  psychological   experiments  I  have  frequently  found  that  the     I 


pp.  8-41]     THE  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING  487 

subjects  of  the  investigation — I  speak  only  of  cultivated  and  intelligent 
people,  whom  I  have  allowed  to  indulge  in  reveries,  apparently  unin- 
tentionally and  without  previous  instruction — have  exhibited  affect- 
expressions  which  can  be  registered  experimentally.  But  the  basic 
thought  of  these,  even  with  the  best  of  intentions,  they  could  express  only 
incompletely  or  even  not  at  all.  One  meets  with  an  abundance  of 
similar  experiences  in  association  experiments  and  psychoanalysis — in- 
deed, there  is  hardly  an  unconscious  complex  which  has  not  at  some  time 
existed   as  a  phantasy  in  consciousness. 

However,  more  instructive  are  the  experiences  from  the  domain  of 
psychopathology.  But  those  arising  in  the  field  of  the  hysterias  and 
neuroses,  which  are  characterized  by  an  overwhelming  transference 
tendency,  are  rarer  than  the  experiences  in  the  territory  of  the  intro- 
version type  of  neuroses  and  psychoses,  which  constitute  by  far  the 
greater  number  of  the  mental  derangements,  at  least  the  collected 
Schizophrenic  group  of  Bleuler.  As  has  already  been  indicated  by  the 
term  "  introversion,"  which  I  briefly  introduced  in  my  study,  "  Konflikte 
der  kindlichen  Seele,"  pp.  6  and  lo,  these  neuroses  lead  to  an  over- 
powering autoerotism  (Freud).  And  here  we  meet  with  this  unuttera- 
ble purely  phantastic  thinking,  which  moves  in  inexpressible  symbols  and 
feelings.  One  gets  a  slight  impression  of  this  when  one  seeks  to  examine 
the  paltry  and  confused  expressions  of  these  people.  As  I  have  frequently 
observed,  it  costs  these  patients  endless  trouble  and  effort  to  put  their 
phantasies  into  common  human  speech.  A  highly  intelligent  patient, 
who  interpreted  such  a  phantasy  piece  by  piece,  often  said  to  me,  "  I 
know  absolutely  with  what  it  is  concerned,  I  see  and  feel  everything, 
but  it  is  quite  impossible  for  me  to  find  the  words  to  express  it."  The 
poetic  and  religious  introversion  gives  rise  to  similar  experiences;  for 
example,  Paul,  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans  viii:26 — "For  we  know 
not  what  we  should  pray  for  as  we  ought:  but  the  Spirit  itself  maketh 
intercession  with  groanings  which  cannot  be  uttered." 

**  Similarly,  James  remarks,  "  The  great  difference,  in  fact,  between 
that  simple  kind  of  rational  thinking  which  consists  in  the  concrete 
objects  of  past  experience  merely  suggesting  each  other,  and  reason  dis- 
tinctively so  called,  is  this,  that  whilst  the  empirical  thinking  is  only 
reproductive,  reasoning  is  productive." 

''  Compare  the  impressive  description  of  Petrarch's  ascent  of  Mt. 
Ventoux,  by  Jacob  Burckhardt  ("  Die  Kultur  der  Renaissance  in  Italien," 
1869,  p.  235)  :        _ 

"  One  now  awaits  a  description  of  the  view,  but  in  vain,  not  because 
the  poet  is  indifferent  to  it,  but,  on  the  contrary,  because  the  impression 
affects  him  all  too  strongly.  His  entire  past  life,  with  all  its  follies, 
passes  before  him;  he  recalls  that  it  is  ten  years  ago  to-day  that  he, 
as  a  young  man,  left  Bologna,  and  he  turns  a  yearning  glance  toward 
Italy.  He  opens  a  book — '  Confessions  of  St.  Augustine,'  his  companion 
at  that  time — and  his  eye  falls  upon  this  passage  in  the  tenth  chapter: 
'  and  the  people  went  there  and  admired  the  high  mountains,  the  wide 
wastes  of  the  sea  and  the  mighty  downward  rushing  streams,  and  the 
ocean  and  the  courses  of  the  stars,  and  forgot  themselves.'  His  brother, 
to  whom  he  reads  these  words,  cannot  comprehend  why,  at  this  point,  he 
closes  the  book  and  is  silent." 

^*  Wundt  gives  a  striking  description  of  the  scholastic  method  in  his 
"  Philosophische  Studien,"  XHI,  p.  345.  The  method  consists  "  first  in 
this,    that  one    realizes   the   chief    aim  of   scientific   investigation    is   the 


488  THE  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING      [pp.  8-41 

discovery  of  a  comprehensive  scheme,  firmly  established,  and  capable  of 
being  applied  in  a  uniform  manner  to  the  most  varied  problems;  sec- 
ondly, in  that  one  lays  an  excessive  value  upon  certain  general  ideas, 
and,  consequently,  upon  the  word-symbols  designating  these  ideas, 
wherefore  an  analysis  of  word-meanings  comes,  in  extreme  cases,  to  be 
an  empty  subtlety  and  splitting  of  hairs,  instead  of  an  investigation  of 
the  real  facts  from  which  the  ideas  are  abstracted." 

^*  The  concluding  passage  in  "  Traumdeutung "  was  of  prophetic  sig- 
nificance, and  has  been  brilliantly  established  since  then  through  investi- 
gations of  the  psychoses.  "  In  the  psychoses  these  modes  of  operation 
of  the  psychic  mechanism,  normally  suppressed  in  the  waking  state,  again 
become  operative,  and  then  disclose  their  inability  to  satisfy  our  needs 
in  the  outer  world."  The  importance  of  this  position  is  emphasized  by 
the  views  of  Pierre  Janet,  developed  independently  of  Freud,  and  which 
deserve  to  be  mentioned  here,  because  they  add  confirmation  from  an 
entirely  different  side,  namely,  the  biological.  Janet  makes  the  distinc- 
tion in  this  function  of  a  firmly  organized  "  inferior "  and  "  superior " 
part,  conceived  of  as  in  a  state  of  continuous  transformation. 

"  It  is  really  on  this  superior  part  of  the  functions,  on  their  adaptation 
to  present  circumstances,  that  the  neuroses  depend.  The  neuroses  are 
the  disturbances  or  the  checks  in  the  evolution  of  the  functions — the 
illnesses  depending  upon  the  morbid  functioning  of  the  organism.  These 
are  characterized  by  an  alteration  in  the  superior  part  of  the  functions, 
in  their  evolution  and  in  their  adaptation  to  the  present  moment — to  the 
present  state  of  the  exterior  world  and  of  the  individual,  and  also  by  the 
absence  or  deterioration  of  the  old  parts  of  these  same  functions. 

"  In  the  place  of  these  superior  operations  there  are  developed  physical, 
mental,  and,  above  all,  emotional  disturbances.  This  is  only  the  tendency 
to  replace  the  superior  operations  by  an  exaggeration  of  certain  inferior 
operations,  and  especially  by  gross  visceral  disturbances"  ("Les 
Nevroses,"  p.  383). 

The  old  parts  are,  indeed,  the  inferior  parts  of  the  functions,  and  these 
replace,  in  a  purposeless  fashion,  the  abortive  attempts  at  adaptation. 
Briefly  speaking,  the  archaic  replaces  the  recent  function  which  has 
failed.  Similar  views  concerning  the  nature  of  neurotic  symptoms  are 
expressed  by  Claparede  as  well  ("  Quelques  mots  sur  la  definition  de 
I'Hysterie,"  Arch,  de  Psychol.,  I,  VII,  p.  169). 

He  understands  the  hysterogenic  mechanism  as  a  "Tendance  h.  la 
reversion  " — as  a  sort  of  atavistic  manner  of  reaction. 

^^  I  am  indebted  to  Dr.  Abraham  for  the  following  interesting  com- 
munication: "A  little  girl  of  three  and  a  half  years  had  been  presented 
with  a  little  brother,  who  became  the  object  of  the  well-known  childish 
jealousy.  Once  she  said  to  her  mother,  'You  are  two  mammas;  you  are 
my  mamma,  and  your  breast  is  little  brother's  mamma.'  She  had  just 
been  looking  on  with  great  interest  at  the  process  of  nursing."  It  is  very 
characteristic  of  the  archaic  thinking  of  the  child  for  the  breast  to  be 
designated  as  "  mamma." 

^*  Compare  especially  Freud's  thorough  investigation  of  the  child  in 
his  "Analyse  der  Phobie  eines  fiinfjahrigen  Knaben,"  1912  Jahrbuch, 
Pt.  I.  Also  my  study,  "  Konflikte  der  kindlichen  Seele,"  1912  Jahrbuch, 
Ft.  II,  p.  33- 

°^  "  Human,  All  Too  Human,"  Vol.  II,  p.  27  and  on. 

^^  "  Sammlung  kleiner  Schriften  zur  Neuroseiilehre,"  Ft.  II,  p.  205. 


pp. 


8-41]      THE  TWO  KINDS  OF  THINKING  489 


"'  "  Der  Kiinstler,  Ansatze  zu  einer  Sexualpsychologie,"  1907,  p.  36. 

"  Compare   also   Rank's  later  book,   "  The  Myth   of  the  Birth  of  the 

Hero." 

^°  "  Wish  Fulfilment  and  Symbolism  in  Fairy  Tales,"  1908. 

"  "  Dreams  and  Myths." 

^*  Compare  with  this  "  Konflikte  der  kindlichen  Seele,"  p.  6,  foot. 

^'  Compare  Abraham,  "  Dreams  and  Myths."  New  York  1913.  The 
wish  for  the  future  is  represented  as  already  fulfilled  in  the  past. 
Later,  the  childish  phantasy  is  again  taken  up  regressively  in  order  to 
compensate  for  the  disillusionment  of  actual  life. 

'"Rank:  "The  Myth  of  the  Birth  of  the  Hero." 

"'^  Naturally,  it  could  not  be  said  that  because  this  was  an  institution 
in  antiquity,  the  same  would  recur  in  our  phantasy,  but  rather  that  in 
antiquity  it  was  possible  for  the  phantasy  so  generally  present  to  become 
an  institution.  This  may  be  concluded  from  the  peculiar  activity  of  the 
mind  of  antiquity. 

^^  The  Dioscuri  married  the  Leucippides  by  theft,  an  act  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  ideas  of  higher  antiquity,  belonged  to  the  necessary  customs 
of  marriage   (Preller:  "  Griechische  Mythologie,"  1854,  Pt.  H,  p.  68). 

^^  See  S.  Creuzer:  "  Symbolik  und  Mythologie,"  181 1,  Pt.  HI,  p.  245. 

°^  Compare  also  the  sodomitic  phantasies  in  the  "  Metamorphoses "  of 
Apuleius.  In  Herculaneum,  for  example,  corresponding  sculptures  have 
been  found. 

^"Ferrero:  "  Les  lois  psychologiques  du  symbolisme." 

'*  With  the  exception  of  the  fact  that  the  thoughts  enter  consciousness 
already   in    a    high    state   of   complexity,    as    Wundt   says. 

"Schelling:  "Philosophic  der  Mythologie,"  Werke,  Pt.  II,  considers 
the  "  preconscious  "  as  the  creative  source,  also  H.  Fichte  ("  Psychologie," 
I,  p.  508)  considers  the  preconscious  region  as  the  place  of  origin  of  the 
real  content  of  dreams. 

^*  Compare,  in  this  connection,  Flournoy:  "  Des  Indes  a  la  planete 
Mars."  Also  Jung:  "  Zur_  Psychologie  und  Pathologie  sogenannter  ok- 
kulter  Phanomene,"  and  "  Uber  die  Psychologie  der  Dementia  praecox." 
Excellent  examples  are  to  be  found  in  Schreber:  "  Denkwiirdigkeiten 
eines  Nervenkranken."     Mutze,  Leipzig. 

^'  "  Jardin  d'Epicure." 

*"  The  figure  of  Judas  acquires  a  great  psychological  significance  as 
the  priestly  sacrificer  of  the  Lamb  of  God,  who,  by  this  act,  sacrifices 
himself  at  the  same  time.  (Self-destruction.)  Compare  Pt.  II  of  this 
work. 

"Compare  with  this  the  statements  of  Drews  ("The  Christ  Myth"), 
which  are  so  violently  combated  by  the  blindness  of  our  time.  Clear- 
sighted theologians,  like  Kalthoff  ("Entstehung  des  Christentums,"  1904), 
present  as  impersonal  a  judgment  as  Drews.  Kalthoff  says,  "The 
sources  from  which  we  derive  our  information  concerning  the  origin  of 
Christianity  are  such  that  in  the  present  state  of  historical  research  no 
historian    would    undertake    the    task    of    writing    the    biography    of    an 


490  THE  MILLER  PHANTASIES        [pp.  42-48 

historical  Jesus."  Ibid.,  p.  lo:  "To  see  behind  these  stories  the  life  of 
a  real  historical  personage,  would  not  occur  to  any  man,  if  it  were  not 
for  the  influence  of  rationalistic  theology."  Ibid.,  p.  9:  "The  divine 
in  Christ,  always  considered  an  inner  attribute  and  one  with  the  human, 
leads  in  a  straight  line  backward  from  the  scholarly  man  of  God,  through 
the  Epistles  and  Gospels  of  the  New  Testament,  to  the  Apocalypse  of 
Daniel,  in  which  the  theological  imprint  of  the  figure  of  Christ  has 
arisen.  At  every  single  point  of  this  line  Christ  shows  superhuman 
traits;  nowhere  is  He  that  which  critical  theology  wished  to  make  Him, 
simply  a  natural  man,  an  historic  individual." 

*^  Compare  J.  Burckhardt's  letter  to  Albert  Brenner  (pub.  by  Hans 
Brenner  in  the  Basle  Jahrbuch,  1901):  "I  have  absolutely  nothing  stored 
away  for  the  special  interpretation  of  Faust.  You  are  well  provided 
with  commentaries  of  all  sorts.  Hark!  let  us  at  once  take  the  whole 
foolish  pack  back  to  the  reading-room  from  whence  they  have  come. 
What  you  are  destined  to  find  in  Faust,  that  you  will  find  by  intuition. 
Faust  is  nothing  else  than  pure  and  legitimate  myth,  a  great  primitive 
conception,  so  to  speak,  in  which  everyone  can  divine  in  his  own  way 
his  own  nature  and  destiny.  Allow  me  to  make  a  comparison:  What 
would  the  ancient  Greeks  have  said  had  a  commentator  interposed  him- 
self between  them  and  the  Oedipus  legend?  There  was  a  chord  of  the 
Oedipus  legend  in  every  Greek  which  longed  to  be  touched  directly  and 
respond  in  its  own  way.  And  thus  it  is  with  the  German  nation  and 
Faust." 

*'  I  will  not  conceal  the  fact  that  for  a  time  I  was  in  doubt  whether 
I  dare  venture  to  reveal  through  analysis  the  intimate  personality  which 
the  author,  with  a  certain  unselfish  scientific  interest,  has  exposed  to 
public  view.  Yet  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  writer  would  possess  an 
understanding  deeper  than  any  objections  of  my  critics.  There  is  always 
some  risk  when  one  exposes  one's  self  to  the  world.  The  absence  of 
any  personal  relation  with  Miss  Miller  permits  me  free  speech,  and  also 
exempts  me  from  those  considerations  due  woman  which  are  prejudicial 
to  conclusions.  The  person  of  the  author  is  on  that  account  just  as 
shadowy  to  me  as  are  her  phantasies;  and,  like  Odysseus,  I  have  tried 
to  let  this  phantom  drink  only  enough  blood  to  enable  it  to  speak,  and 
in  so  doing  betray  some  of  the  secrets  of  the  inner  life. 

I  have  not  undertaken  this  analysis,  for  which  the  author  owes  me  but 
little  thanks,  for  the  pleasure  of  revealing  private  and  intimate  matters, 
with  the  accompanying  embarrassment  of  publicity,  but  because  I  wished 
to  show  the  secret  of  the  individual  as  one  common  to  all. 


CHAPTER  II 

*  A  very  beautiful  example  of  this  is  found  in  C.  A.  Bernoulli:  "Franz 
Overbeck  und  Friedrich  Nietzsche.  Eine  Freundschaft,"  1908  (Pt.  I, 
p.  72).  This  author  depicts  Nietzsche's  behavior  in  Basle  society:  "Once 
at  a  dinner  he  said  to  the  young  lady  at  his  side,  '  I  dreamed  a  short 
time  ago  that  the  skin  of  my  hand,  which  lay  before  me  on  the  table, 
suddenly  became  like  glass,  shiny  and  transparent,  through  which  I  saw 
distinctly  the  bones  and  the  tissues  and  the  play  of  the  muscles.  All  at 
once  I  saw  a  toad  sitting  on  my  hand  and  at  the  same  time  I  felt  an 
irresistible  compulsion  to  swallow  the  beast.  I  overcame  my  terrible 
aversion  and  gulped  it  down.'  The  young  lady  laughed.  '  And  do  you 
laugh   at  that?'  Nietzsche  asked,  his  deep  eyes  fixed  on  his  companion, 


pp.  49-86]  THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  491 

half  questioning,  half  sorrowful.  The  young  lady  knew  intuitively  that 
she  did  not  wholly  understand  that  an  oracle  had  spoken  to  her  in  the 
form  of  an  allegory  and  that  Nietzsche  had  revealed  to  her  a  glimpse 
into  the  dark  abyss  of  his  inner  self."  On  page  i66  Bernoulli  con- 
tinues as  follows:  "One  can  perhaps  see,  behind  that  harmless  pleasure 
of  faultless  exactness  in  dress,  a  dread  of  contamination  arising  from 
some  mysterious  and  tormenting  disgust." 

Nietzsche  went  to  Basle  when  he  was  very  young;  he  was  then  just 
at  the  age  when  other  young  people  are  contemplating  marriage.  Seated 
next  to  a  young  woman,  he  tells  her  that  something  terrible  and  dis- 
gusting is  taking  place  in  his  transparent  hand,  something  which  he 
must  take  completely  into  his  body.  We  know  what  illness  caused  the 
premature  ending  of  Nietzsche's  life.  It  was  precisely  this  which  he 
would  tell  the  young  lady,  and  her  laughter  was  indeed  discordant. 

A    whole   series   of    psychoanalytic   experiences   could   easily   be    pro- 
duced here  to  illustrate  this  statement. 

'Ferenczi:  "  Introjektion  und  Ubertragung,"  Jahrbuch,  Pt.  I   (1912). 


CHAPTER  III 

*  The  choice  of  words  and  comparisons  is  always  significant.  A 
psychology  of  travels  and  the  unconscious  forces  co-operating  with  them 
is  yet  to  be  written. 

*  This  mental  disturbance  had  until  recently  the  very  unfortunate 
designation.  Dementia  Praecox,  given  by  Kraepelin.  It  is  extremely  un- 
fortunate that  this  malady  should  have  been  discovered  by  the  psychi- 
atrists, for  its  apparently  bad  prognosis  is  due  to  this  circumstance. 
Dementia  praecox  is  synonymous  with  therapeutic  hopelessness.  How 
would  hysteria  appear  if  judged  from  the  standpoint  of  psychiatry! 
The  psychiatrist  naturally  sees  in  the  institutions  only  the  worst  cases 
of  dementia  praecox,  and  as  a  consequence  of  his  therapeutic  helpless- 
ness he  must  be  a  pessimist.  How  deplorable  would  tuberculosis  appear 
if  the  physician  of  an  asylum  for  the  incurable  described  the  nosology 
of  this  disease!  Just  as  little  as  the  chronic  cases  of  hysteria,  which 
gradually  degenerate  in  insane  asylums,  are  characteristic  of  real 
hysteria,  just  so  little  are  the  cases  of  dementia  praecox  in  asylums 
characteristic  of  those  early  forms  so  frequent  in  general  practice,  and 
which  Janet  has  described  under  the  name  of  Psychasthenia.  These 
cases  fall  under  Bleuler's  description  of  Schizophrenia,  a  name  which 
connotes  a  psychological  fact,  and  might  easily  be  compared  with 
similar  facts  in  hysteria.  The  term  which  I  use  in  my  private  work 
for  these  conditions  is  Introversion  Neurosis,  by  which,  in  my  opinion, 
the  most  important  characteristic  of  the  condition  is  given,  namely,  the 
predominance  of  introversion  over  transference,  which  latter  is  the 
characteristic  feature  of  hysteria. 

In  my  "  Psychology  of  Dementia  Praecox  "  I  have  not  made  any  study 
of  the  relationship  of  the  Psychasthenia  of  Janet.  Subsequent  experience 
with  Dementia  Praecox,  and  particularly  the  study  of  Psychasthenia  in 
Paris,  have  demonstrated  to  me  the  essential  relationship  of  Janet's 
group  with  the  Introversion  Neuroses   (the  Schizophrenia  of  Bleuler). 

^  Compare  the  similar  views  in  my  article,  "  Uber  die  Psychologie  der 
Dementia  praecox,"  Halle  1907;  and  "  Inhalt  der  Psychose,"  Deuticke, 
Wien     1908.      Also    Abraham:    "Die    psychosexuellen    Differenzen    der 


492  THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION        [pp.  49-86 

Hysteric  und  der  Dementia  praecox,"  Zentralblatt  fiir  Ner'venheilktinde 
und  Psychiatrie,  1908.  This  author,  in  support  of  Freud,  defines  the 
chief  characteristic  of  dementia  praecox  as  Autoerotism,  which  as  I 
have  asserted  is  only  one  of  the  results  of  Introversion. 

*  Freud,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  an  essential  part  of  this  view, 
dlso  speaks  of  "  Heilungsversuch,"  the  attempt  toward  cure,  the  search 
lor  health. 

*  Miss  Miller's  publication  gives  no  hint  of  any  knowledge  of  psycho- 
analysis. 

'  Here  I  purposely  give  preference  to  the  term  "  Imago  "  rather  than 
to  the  expression  "  Complex,"  in  order,  by  the  choice  of  terminology,  to 
invest  this  psychological  condition,  which  I  include  under  "  Imago," 
with  living  independence  in  the  psychical  hierarchy,  that  Is  to  say, 
with  that  autonomy  which,  from  a  large  experience,  I  have  claimed 
as  the  essential  peculiarity  of  the  emotional  complex.  (Compare  "The 
Psychology  of  Dementia  Praecox.")  My  critics,  Isserlin  especially,  have 
seen  in  this  view  a  return  to  medieval  psychology,  and  they  have,  there- 
fore, rejected  it  utterly.  This  "return"  took  place  on  my  part  con- 
sciously and  intentionally  because  the  phantastic,  projected  psychology 
of  ancient  and  modern  superstition,  especially  demonology,  furnishes 
exhaustive  evidence  for  this  point  of  view.  Particularly  interesting 
insight  and  confirmation  is  given  us  by  the  insane  Schreber  in  an  auto- 
biography ("  DenkwiJrdigkeiten  eines  Nervenkranken,"  Mutze,  Leipzig), 
where  he  has  given  complete  expression  to  the  doctrine  of  autonomy. 

"Imago"  has  a  significance  similar  on  the  one  hand  to  the  psycho- 
logically conceived  creation  in  Spitteler's  novel  "  Imago,"  and  upon  the 
other  hand  to  the  ancient  religious  conception  of  "  imagines  et  lares." 

'  Compare  my  article,  "  Die  Bedeutung  des  Vaters  fiir  das  Schicksal 
des  Einzelnen." 

*  As  is  well  known,  Anaxagoras  developed  the  conception  that  the 
living  primal  power  (Urpotenz)  of  vavq  (mind)  imparts  movement,  as 
if  by  a  blast  of  wind,  to  the  dead  primal  power  (Urpotenz)  of  matter. 
There  is  naturally  no  mention  of  sound.  This  vovg,  which  is  very 
similar  to  the  later  conception  of  Philo,  the  Myoq  anepjuaTtKog  of  the 
Gnostics  and  the  Pauline  irvev/ua  (spirit)  as  well  as  to  the  irvevfia  of  the 
contemporary  Christian  theologians,  has  rather  the  old  mythological 
significance  of  the  fructifying  breath  of  the  winds,  which  impregnated 
the  mares  of  Lusitania,  and  the  Egyptian  vultures.  The  animation  of 
Adam  and  the  impregnation  of  the  Mother  of  God  by  the  nvuv/na  are  pro- 
duced in  a  similar  manner.  The  infantile  incest  phantasy  of  one  of  my 
patients  reads:  "the  father  covered  her  face  with  his  hands  and  blew 
into  her  open  mouth." 

*  Haydn's  "  Creation  "  might  be  meant. 

"  See  Job  xvi: i-ii. 

**  I  recall  the  case  of  a  young  insane  girl  who  continually  imagined 
that  her  innocence  was  suspected,  from  which  thought  she  would  not 
allow  herself  to  be  dissuaded.  Gradually  there  developed  out  of  her 
defensive  attitude  a  correspondingly  energetic  positive  erotomania. 

^^  Compare  the  preceding  footnote  with  the  text  of  Miss  Miller's. 

*'  The  case  is  published  in  "  Zur  Psychologie  und  Pathologie 
sogenannter  okkulter  Phanotnene."     Mutze,  Leipzig  1902. 


I 


pp.  49-86]        THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  493 

^^  Compare  Freud's  "Analyse  der  Phobie  eines  fiinfjahrigen  Knaben," 
Jahrbuch,  Vol.  I,  ist  half;  also  Jung:  "  Konflikte  der  kindlichen  Seele," 
Jahrbuch.  II,  Vol.  I. 

^^  Others  do  not  make  use  of  this  step,  but  are  directly  carried  away 
by  Eros. 

^''  "  La  sagesse  et  la  destinee." 

*'  This  time  I  shall  hardly  be  spared  the  reproach  of  mysticism.  But 
perhaps  the  facts  should  be  further  considered;  doubtless  the  unconscious 
contains  material  which  does  not  rise  to  the  threshold  of  consciousness. 
The  analysis  dissolves  these  combinations  into  their  historical  deter- 
minants, for  it  is  one  of  the  essential  tasks  of  analysis  to  render  impotent 
by  dissolution  the  content  of  the  complexes  competing  with  the  proper 
conduct  of  life.  Psychoanalysis  works  backwards  like  the  science  of 
history.  Just  as  the  largest  part  of  the  past  is  so  far  removed  that  it  is 
not  reached  by  history,  so  too  the  greater  part  of  the  unconscious  de- 
terminants is  unreachable.  History,  however,  knows  nothing  of  two 
kinds  of  things,  that  which  is  hidden  in  the  past  and  that  which  is 
hidden  in  the  future.  Both  perhaps  might  be  attained  with  a  certain 
probability;  the  first  as  a  postulate,  the  second  as  an  historical  prog- 
nosis. In  so  far  as  to-morrow  is  already  contained  in  to-day,  and  all 
the  threads  of  the  future  are  in  place,  so  a  more  profound  knowledge 
of  the  past  might  render  possible  a  more  or  less  far-reaching  and  certain 
knowledge  of  the  future.  Let  us  transfer  this  reasoning,  as  Kant  has 
already  done,  to  psychology.  Then  necessarily  we  must  come  to  the 
same  result.  Just  as  traces  of  memory  long  since  fallen  below  the 
threshold  of  consciousness  are  accessible  in  the  unconscious,  so  too  there 
are  certain  very  fine  subliminal  combinations  of  the  future,  which  are 
of  the  greatest  significance  for  future  happenings  in  so  far  as  the  future 
is  conditioned  by  our  own  psychology.  But  just  so  little  as  the  science 
of  history  concerns  itself  with  the  combinations  for  the  future,  which  is 
the  function  of  politics,  so  little,  also,  are  the  psychological  combinations 
for  the  future  the  object  of  analysis;  they  would  be  much  more  the  object 
of  an  infinitely  refined  psychological  synthesis,  which  attempts  to  follow 
the  natural  current  of  the  libido.  This  we  cannot  do,  but  possibly  this 
might  happen  in  the  unconscious,  and  it  appears  as  if  from  time  to  time, 
in  certain  cases,  significant  fragments  of  this  process  come  to  light,  at 
least  in  dreams.  From  this  comes  the  prophetic  significance  of  the  dream 
long  claimed  by  superstition. 

The  aversion  of  the  scientific  man  of  to-day  to  this  type  of  thinking, 
hardly  to  be  called  phantastic,  is  merely  an  overcompensation  to  the  very 
ancient  and  all  too  great  inclination  of  mankind  to  believe  in  prophesies 
and  superstitions. 

*'  Dreams  seem  to  remain  spontaneously  in  the  memory  just  so  long  as 
they  give  a  correct  resume  of  the  psychologic  situation  of  the  individual. 

*'  How  paltry  are  the  intrinsic  ensemble  and  the  detail  of  the  erotic 
experience,  is  shown  by  this  frequently  varied  love  song  which  I  quote 
in  its  epirotic  form: 

Epirotic  Love  Song 
{Zeitschrift  des  Ver eines  fur  Volkskunde,  XII,  p.  159.) 
O  Maiden,  when  we  kissed,  then  it  was  night;  who  saw  us? 
A  night  Star  saw  us,  and  the  moon, 
And  it  leaned  downward  to  the  sea,  and  gave  it  the  tidings, 


494  THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION        [pp.  49-86 

Then  the  Sea  told  the  rudder,  the  rudder  told  the  sailor, 

The  sailor  put  it  into  song,  then  the  neighbor  heard  it, 

Then  the  priest  heard  it  and  told  my  mother, 

From  her  the  father  heard  it,  he  got  in  a  burning  anger. 

They  quarrelled  with  me  and  commanded  me  and  they  have  forbidden  me 

Ever  to  go  to  the  door,  ever  to  go  to  the  window. 

And  yet  I  will  go  to  the  window  as  if  to  my  flowers, 

And  never  will  I  rest  till  my  beloved  is  mine. 

^'Jobxlitis    (Leviathan). 

"21.    His  breath  kindleth  coals,  and  a  flame  goeth  out  of  his  mouth. 
"  22.    In  his  neck  remaineth  strength,  and  sorrow  is  turned  into  joy 

before  him. 
"24.    His  heart  is  as  firm  as  a  stone;  yea,  as  hard  as  a  piece  of  the 

nether  millstone. 
"25.    When  he  raiseth  up  himself,  the  mighty  are  afraid:  by  reason 

of  breakings  they  purify  themselves. 
"  33'    Upon  earth  there  is  not  his  like  who  is  made  without  fear. 
"34.    He  beholdeth  all  high  things:  he  is  a  king  over  all  the  children 

of  pride." 
Chapter  xlii. 
"  I.    Then  Job  answered  the  Lord,  and  said, 

"  2.    I  know  that  thou  canst  do  everything,  and  that  no  thought  can 
be  withholden  from  thee." 

*^  The  theriomorphic  attributes  are  lacking  in  the  Christian  religion 
except  as  remnants,  such  as  the  Dove,  the  Fish  and  the  Lamb.  The 
latter  is  also  represented  as  a  Ram  in  the  drawings  in  the  Catacombs. 
Here  belong  the  animals  associated  with  the  Evangelists  which  particu- 
larly need  historical  explanation.  The  Eagle  and  the  Lion  were  definite 
degrees  of  initiation  in  the  Mithraic  mysteries.  The  worshippers  of 
Dionysus  called  themselves  ^oeg  because  the  god  was  represented  as  a 
bull;  likewise  the  apuroi  of  Artemis,  conceived  of  as  a  she-bear. 
The  Angel  might  correspond  to  the  vh^Spofioi  of  the  Mithras  mysteries. 
It  is  indeed  an  exquisite  invention  of  the  Christian  phantasy  that  the 
animal  coupled  with  St.  Anthony  is  the  pig,  for  the  good  saint  was  one 
of  those  who  were  subjected  to  the  devil's  most  evil  temptations. 

^^  Compare  Pfister's  notable  article:  "Die  Frommigkeit  des  Graf  en 
Ludwig  von  Zinzendorf."     Wien  1910. 

^'  The  Book  of  Job,  originating  at  a  later  period  under  non-Jewish 
influences,  is  a  striking  presentation  of  individual  projection  psychology. 

** "  If  we  say  we  have  no  sin,  we  deceive  ourselves,  and  the  truth  is 
not  in  us "   (I  John  i:  8). 

'""Surely  he  has  borne  our  griefs  and  carried  our  sorrows"  (Isaiah 
liii:4). 

^^  "  Bear  ye  one   another's  burdens"    (Galatians  vi:2). 

"  God  is  Love,  corresponding  to  the  platonic  "  Eros "  which  unites 
humanity  with  the  transcendental. 

''^  Compare  Reitzenstein  ("Die  hellenistischen  Mysterienreligionen," 
Leipzig  and  Berlin  1910,  p.  20):  "Among  the  various  forms  with  which 
a  primitive  people  have  represented  the  highest  religious  consecration, 
union  with  God,  belongs  necessarily  that  of  the  sexual  union,  in  which 
man   attributes   to  his   semen   the   innermost   nature   and   power   of   God. 


pp.  49-86]        THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  495 

That  which   was   in   the  first   instance  wholly   a  sensual  act  becomes   in 

the    most    widely    separated    places,    independently,    a  sacred     act,    in 

which    the    god    is    represented    by    a    human    deputy    or  his    symbol    the 
Phallus." 

^^  Take  as  an  example  among  many  others  the  striking  psychologic  de- 
scription of  the  fate  of  Alypius,  in  the  "  Confessions  "  of  St.  Augustine 
(Bk.  VI,  Ch.  7):  "Only  the  moral  iniquity  of  Carthage,  expressed  in  the 
absolute  wildness  of  its  worthless  spectacles,  had  drawn  him  down  into 
the  whirlpool  of  this  misery.  [Augustine,  at  that  time  a  teacher  of 
Logic,  through  his  wisdom  had  converted  Alypius.]  He  rose  up  after 
those  words  from  the  depths  of  the  mire,  into  which  he  had  willingly 
let  himself  be  submerged,  and  which  had  blinded  him  with  fatal  pleasure. 
He  stripped  the  filth  from  off  his  soul  with  courageous  abstemiousness. 
All  the  snares  of  the  Hippodrome  no  longer  perplexed  him.  Thereupon 
Alypius  went  to  Rome  in  order  to  study  law;  there  he  became  a  back- 
slider. He  was  transported  to  an  unbelievable  degree  by  an  unfortunate 
passion  for  gladiatorial  shows.  Although  in  the  beginning  he  abom- 
inated and  cursed  these  shows,  one  evening  some  of  his  friends  and 
fellow-students,  whom  he  met  after  they  had  dined,  in  spite  of  his  pas- 
sionate refusals  and  the  exertion  of  all  the  power  of  his  resistance, 
dragged  him  with  friendly  violence  to  the  Amphitheatre  on  the  occasion 
of  a  cruel  and  murderous  exhibition.  At  the  time  he  said  to  them,  '  If 
you  drag  my  body  to  that  place  and  hold  it  there,  can  you  turn  my 
mind  and  my  eyes  to  that  spectacle?'  In  spite  of  his  supplications  they 
dragged  him  with  them,  eager  to  know  if  he  would  be  able  to  resist  the 
spectacle.  When  they  arrived  they  sat  down  where  place  was  still  left, 
and  all  glowed  with  inhuman  delight.  He  closed  his  eyes  and  forbade 
his  soul  to  expose  itself  to  such  danger.  O,  if  he  had  also  stopped  up 
his  ears!  When  some  one  fell  in  combat  and  all  the  people  set  up 
a  mighty  shout,  he  stifled  his  curiosity  and  prepared  proudly  to  scorn 
the  sight,  confident  that  he  could  view  the  spectacle  if  he  so  desired. 
And  his  soul  was  overcome  with  terrible  wounds,  like  the  wounds  of 
the  body  which  he  desired  to  see,  and  souls  more  miserable  than  the  one 
whose  fall  had  caused  the  outcry,  which  pressing  through  his  ears,  had 
opened  his  eyes,  so  that  his  weakness  had  been  bared.  Through  this  he 
could  be  struck  and  thrown  down,  for  he  had  the  feeling  of  confidence 
more  than  strength,  and  he  was  the  weaker  because  he  trusted  himself 
to  this  and  not  to  Thee.  When  he  saw  the  blood,  then  at  the  same 
time  he  drew  in  the  desire  for  blood,  and  no  longer  turned  away  but 
directed  his  looks  thither.  The  fury  took  possession  of  him  and  yet  he 
did  not  know  it;  he  took  delight  in  the  wicked  combat  and  was  intoxi- 
cated by  the  bloody  pleasure.  Now  he  was  no  longer  the  sam*;  as  when 
he  had  come,  and  he  was  the  true  accomplice  of  those  who  first  had 
dragged  him  there.  What  more  is  there  to  say?  He  saw,  he  cried  out, 
he  was  inflamed,  and  he  carried  away  with  him  the  insane  longing, 
which  enticed  him  again  to  return,  not  only  in  the  company  of  those  who 
first  had  dragged  him  with  them,  but  going  ahead  of  all  and  leading 
others." 

^^  Compare  the  prayer  of  the  so-called  Mithraic  Liturgy  (pub.  by 
Dieterich^.  There,  characteristic  places  are  to  be  found,  such  for  in- 
stance as :  Tf/g  avOpuTTivrj^  fiov  TpvxinTjg  dvvdfieug  i/v  eyu  nakiv  /j.eTaKapa?iT//irpo/iai 
/lETo.  T7jv  ivearucav  koI  KaTETVEiyovaav  fie  niKpav  avd}K?jv  axpEOKonriTov  (The 
human  soul  force  which  I,  weighed  down  by  guilt,  would  again  attain, 
because  of  the   present   bitter   need   oppressing  me).    ETTLKalovfiai,   eveKa  t?;j 


496  THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION        [pp.  49-86 

KaTEireiyovffT]^  koI  niKpac  (nvapai.rrjTov  avdyKr^g  (On  account  of  the  oppress- 
ing bitter  and  inexorable  need). 

From  the  speech  of  the  High  Priest  (Apuleius:  "Metamorphoses," 
lib.  XI,  248)  a  similar  train  of  thought  may  be  gathered.  The  young 
philosopher  Lucius  was  changed  into  an  ass,  that  continuously  rutting 
animal  which  Isis  hated.  Later  he  was  released  from  the  enchantment 
and  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  Isis.  When  he  was  freed  from  the 
spell  the  priest  speaks  as  follows:  "  Lubrico  virentis  aetatulae,  ad  serviles 
delapsus  voluptates,  curiositatis  improsperae  sinistrum  praemium  re- 
portasti. — Nam  in  eos,  quorum  sibi  vitas  servitium  Deae  nostrae  ma- 
jestas  vindicavit,  non  habet  locum  casus  infestus — in  tutelam  jam  receptus 
es  Fortunae,  sed  videntis  "  (But  falling  into  the  slavery  of  pleasure,  in 
the  wantonness  of  buxom  youth,  you  have  reaped  the  inauspicious  reward 
of  your  ill-fated  curiosity — for  direful  calamity  has  no  power  over  those 
whose  lives  the  majesty  of  our  Goddess  has  claimed  for  her  own 
service. — You  are  now  received  under  the  guardianship  of  fortune,  but 
of  a  fortune  who  can  see).  In  the  prayer  to  the  Queen  of  Heaven,  Isis, 
Lucius  says:  "Qua  fatorum  etiam  inextricabiliter  contorta  retractas  licia 
et  Fortunae  tempestates  mitigas,  et  stellarum  noxios  meatus  cohibes " 
(By  which  thou  dost  unravel  the  inextricably  entangled  threads  of  the 
fates,  and  dost  assuage  the  tempests  of  fortune  and  restrain  the  malig- 
nant influences  of  the  stars). — Generally  it  was  the  purpose  of  the  rite 
to  destroy  the  "  evil  compulsion  of  the  star  "  by  magic  power. 

The  power  of  fate  makes  itself  felt  unpleasantly  only  when  everything 
goes  against  our  will;  that  is  to  say  when  we  no  longer  find  ourselves 
in  harmony  with  ourselves.  As  I  endeavored  to  show  in  my  article, 
"  Die  Bedeutung  des  Vaters,"  etc.,  the  most  dangerous  power  of  fate  lies 
in  the  infantile  libido  fixation,  localized  in  the  unconscious.  The  power 
of  fate  reveals  itself  at  closer  range  as  a  compulsion  of  the  libido; 
wherefore  Maeterlinck  justly  says  that  a  Socrates  could  not  possibly  be 
a  tragic  hero  of  the  type  of  Hamlet.  In  accordance  with  this  conception 
the  ancients  had  already  placed  el/^ap/nevTf  (destiny)  in  relation  to  "Primal 
Light,"  or  "Primal  Fire."  In  the  Stoic  conception  of  the  primal  cause, 
the  Vi^armth  spread  everywhere,  which  has  created  everything  and  which 
is  therefore  Destiny.  (Compare  Cumont:  "  Mysterien  des  Mithra,"  p. 
83.)  This  warmth  is,  as  will  later  be  shown,  a  symbol  of  the  libido. 
Another  conception  of  the  Ananke  (necessity)  is,  according  to  the  Book 
of  Zoroaster,  Trept  (pvaeug  (concerning  nature),  that  the  air  as  wind  had 
once  a  connection  with  fertility.  I  am  indebted  to  Rev.  Dr.  Keller  of 
Zurich  for  calling  my  attention  to  Bergson's  conception  of  the  "  duree 
creatrice." 

^^  Schiller  says  in  "  Wallenstein  ":  "In  your  breast  lie  the  constella- 
tions of  your  fate."  "  Our  fates  are  the  result  of  our  personality,"  says 
Emerson  in  his  "  Essays."  Compare  with  this  my  remarks  in  "  Die 
Bedeutung  des  Vaters." 

"'  The  ascent  to  the  "  Idea "  is  described  with  unusual  beauty  in 
Augustine  (Bk.  X,  Ch.  8).  The  beginning  of  Ch.  8  reads:  "I  will  raise 
myself  over  this  force  of  my  nature,  step  by  step  ascending  to  Him  who 
has  made  me.  I  will  come  to  the  fields  and  the  spacious  palaces  of  ray 
memory." 

^^  The  followers  of  Mithra  also  called  themselves  Brothers.  In 
philosophical  speech  Mithra  was  Logos  emanating  from  God.  (Cumont: 
"  Myst.  des  Mithra,"  p.  102.) 

Besides    the    followers    of    Mithra    there    existed    many    Brotherhoods^ 


pp.  49-86]        THE  HYMN  OF  CREATION  497 

which  were  called  Thiasai  and  probably  were  the  organizations  from 
which  the  Church  developed  later.  (A.  Kalthoff:  "Die  Entstehung  des 
Christentums.") 

'*  Augustine,  who  stood  in  close  relation  to  that  period  of  transition  not 
only  in  point  of  time  but  also  intellectually,  writes  in  his  "Confessions" 
(Bk.  VI,  Ch.  i6): 

"  Nor  did  I,  unhappy,  consider  from  what  source  it  sprung,  that  even 
on  these  things,  foul  as  they  were,  I  with  pleasure  discoursed  with  my 
carnal  pleasures.  And  yet  these  friends  I  loved  for  themselves  only,  and 
friends;  nor  could  I,  even  according  to  the  notions  I  then  had  of 
happiness,  be  happy  without  friends,  amid  what  abundance  soever  of 
I  felt  that  I  was  beloved  of  them  for  myself  only.  O,  crooked  paths! 
Woe  to  the  audacious  soul,  which  hoped,  by  forsaking  Thee,  to  gain 
some  better  thing!  Turned  it  hath,  and  turned  again,  upon  back,  sides, 
and  belly,  yet  all  was  painful,  and  Thou  alone  rest!"  (Trans,  by 
Pusey.) 

It  is  not  only  an  unpsychologic  but  also  an  unscientific  method  of 
procedure  to  characterize  offhand  such  effects  of  religion  as  suggestion. 
Such  things  are  to  be  taken  seriously  as  the  expression  of  the  deepest 
psychologic  need. 

'"  Both  religions  teach  a  pronounced  ascetic  morality,  but  at  the  same 
time  a  morality  of  action.  The  last  is  true  also  of  Mithracism.  Cumont 
says  that  Mithracism  owed  its  success  to  the  value  of  its  morale:  "This 
stimulated  to  action  in  an  extraordinary  degree"  ("Myst.  des  Mithra"). 
The  followers  of  Mithra  formed  a  "sacred  legion"  for  battle  against 
evil,  and  among  them  were  virgins  (nuns)  and  continents  (ascetics). 
Whether  these  brotherhoods  had  another  meaning — that  is,  an  economic- 
communistic  one — is  something  I  will  not  discuss  now.  Here  only  the 
religious-psychologic  aspects  interest  us.  Both  religions  have  in  common 
the  idea  of  the  divine  sacrifice.  Just  as  Christ  sacrificed  himself  as  the 
Lamb  of  God,  so  did  Mithra  sacrifice  his  Bull.  This  sacrifice  in  both 
religions  is  the  heart  of  the  Mysteries.  The  sacrificial  death  of  Christ 
means  the  salvation  of  the  world;  from  the  sacrifice  of  the  bull  of 
Mithra  the  entire  creation  springs. 

'"  This  analytic  perception  of  the  roots  of  the  Mystery  Religions  is 
necessarily  one-sided,  just  as  is  the  analysis  of  the  basis  of  the  religious 
poem.  In  order  to  understand  the  actual  causes  of  the  repression  in 
Miss  Miller  one  must  delve  into  the  moral  history  of  the  present;  just 
as  one  is  obliged  to  seek  in  the  ancient  moral  and  economic  history  the 
actual  causes  of  repression  which  have  given  rise  to  the  Mystery  cults. 
This  investigation  has  been  brilliantly  carried  out  by  Kalthoff.  (See 
his  book,  "Die  Entstehung  des  Christentums,"  Leipzig  1904.)  I  also 
refer  especially  to  Pohlmann's  "  Geschichte  des  antiken  Kommunismus 
und  Sozialismus  " ;  also  to  Biicher:  "Die  Aufstande  der  unfreien  Arbeiter 
143  bis  129  v.  Chr.,"  1874. 

The  other  cause  of  the  enormous  introversion  of  the  libido  in  antiquity 
is  probably  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that  an  unbelievably  large  part  of 
the  people  suflfered  in  the  wretched  state  of  slavery.  It  is  inevitable  that 
finally  those  who  bask  in  good  fortune  would  be  infected  in  the  mys- 
terious manner  of  the  unconscious,  by  the  deep  sorrow  and  still  deeper 
misery  of  their  brothers,  through  which  some  were  driven  into  orgiastic 
furies.  Others,  however,  the  better  ones,  sank  into  that  strange  world- 
weariness  and  satiety  of  the  intellectuals  of  that  time.  Thus  from  two 
sources  the  great  introversion  was  made  possible. 


498  THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH      [pp.  87-126 

"'Compare  Freud:  "The  Interpretation  of  the  Dream." 

**  Compare  Freud:  "Sublimation,"  in  "Three  Contributions  to  the 
Sexual  Theory." 

^'  In  a  manner  which  is  closely  related  to  my  thought,  Kalthoff 
("Entstehung  des  Christentums ")  understands  the  secularizing  of  the 
religious  interest  as  a  new  incarnation  of  the  /^<^>of  (word).  He  says: 
"  The  profound  grasp  of  the  soul  of  nature  evidenced  in  modern  painting 
and  poetry,  the  living  intuitive  feeling  which  even  science  in  its  most 
austere  works  can  no  longer  do  without,  enables  us  easily  to  understand 
how  the  Logos  of  Greek  philosophy  which  assigned  its  place  in  the  world 
to  the  old  Christ  type,  clothed  in  its  world-to-come  significance  cele- 
brated a  new  incarnation." 

'*"  It  seems,  on  account  of  the  isolation  of  the  cult,  that  this  fact  was 
the  cause  of  its  ruin  as  well,  because  the  eyes  of  that  time  were  blinded 
to  the  beauty  of  nature.  Augustine  (Bk.  X,  Ch.  6)  very  justly  remarks: 
"  But  they  [men]  were  themselves  undone  through  love  for  her  [crea- 
tion]." 

*^  Augustine  (ibid.)  :  "But  what  do  I  love  when  I  love  Thee,  Oh  God? 
Not  the  bodily  form,  nor  the  earthly  sweetness,  nor  the  splendor  of  the 
light,  so  dear  to  these  eyes;  nor  the  sweet  melodies  of  the  richly  varied 
songs;  not  the  flowers  and  the  sweet  scented  ointments  and  spices  of 
lovely  fragrance;  not  manna  and  honey;  not  the  limbs  of  the  body 
whose  embraces  are  pleasant  to  the  flesh.  I  do  not  love  these  when  I 
love  my  God,  and  yet  the  light,  the  voice,  the  fragrance,  the  food,  the 
embrace  of  my  inner  man ;  when  these  shine  into  my  soul,  which  no 
space  contains,  which  no  time  takes  away,  where  there  is  a  fragrance 
which  the  wind  does  not  blow  away,  where  there  is  a  taste  which  no 
gluttony  diminishes  and  where  harmony  abides  which  no  satiety  can 
remove — that  is  what  I  love,  when  I  love  my  God."  (Perhaps  a  model 
for  Zarathustra:  "Die  sieben  Siegel,"  Nietzsche's  works,  VI,  p.  33  If.) 

*^Cumont:  "Die  Mysterien  des  Mithra.  Ein  Beitrag  zur  Religions- 
geschichte  der  romischen  Kaiserzeit."  Ubersetzt  von  Gehrich,  Leipzig 
1903,  p.  109. 

^*4ist  Letter  to  Lucilius. 
"  Ibid. 

CHAPTER  IV 

*  Complexes  are  apt  to  be  of  the  greatest  stability,  although  their 
outward  forms  of  manifestation  change  kaleidoscopically.  A  large 
number  of  experimental  studies  have  entirely  convinced  me  of  this  fact. 

^  Julian  the  Apostate  made  the  last,  unsuccessful  attempt  to  cause  the 
triumph  of  Mithracism  over  Christianity. 

'  This  solution  of  the  libido  problem  was  brought  about  in  a  similar 
manner  by  the  flight  from  the  world  during  the  first  Christian  century. 
(The  cities  of  the  Anchorites  in  the  deserts  of  the  Orient.)  People 
mortified  themselves  in  order  to  become  spiritual  and  thus  escape  the 
extreme  brutality  of  the  decadent  Roman  civilization.  Asceticism  is 
forced  sublimation,  and  is  always  to  be  found  where  the  animal  impulses 
are  still  so  strong  that  they  must  be  violently  exterminated.  The  masked 
self-murder  of  the  ascetic  needs  no  further  biologic  proof. 


pp.  87-126]      THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  499 

Chamberlain  ("Foundations  of  the  Nineteenth  Century")  sees  in  the 
problem  a  biologic  suicide  because  of  the  enormous  amount  of  illegitimacy 
among  Mediterranean  peoples  at  that  time.  I  believe  that  illegitimacy 
tends  rather  to  mediocrity  and  to  living  for  pleasure.  It  appears  after 
all  that  there  were,  at  that  time,  fine  and  noble  people  who,  disgusted 
with  the  frightful  chaos  of  that  period  which  was  merely  an  expression 
of  the  disruption  of  the  individual,  put  an  end  to  their  lives,  and  thus 
caused  the  death  of  the  old  civilization  with  its  endless  wickedness. 

*  i^'iKT]  (Justice),  daughter  of  Zeus  and  Themis,  who,  after  the  Golden 
Age,  forsook  the  degenerate  earth. 

'Thanks  to  this  eclogue,  Virgil  later  attained  the  honor  of  being  a 
semi-Christian  poet.    To  this  he  owes  his  position  as  guide  to  Dante. 

*  Both  are  represented  not  only  as  Christian,  but  also  as  Pagan.  Es- 
sener  and  Therapeuten  were  quasi  orders  of  the  Anchorites  living  in 
the  desert.  Probably,  as,  for  instance,  may  be  learned  from  Apuleius 
("Metamorphoses,"  lib.  XI),  there  existed  small  settlements  of  mystics 
or  consecrated  ones  around  the  sacred  shrines  of  Isis  and  Mithra. 
Sexual  abstinence  and  celibacy  were  also  known. 

'  "  Below  the  hills,  a  marshy  plain 

Infects  what  I  so  long  have  been  retrieving: 
This  stagnant  pool  likewise  to  drain 
Were  now  my  latest  and  my  best  achieving. 
To  many  millions  following  let  me  furnish  soil." 
The  analogy  of  this  expression  with  the  quotation  above  is  striking. 

*  Compare  Breuer  and  Freud:  "  Studien  iiber  Hysterie";  also  Bleuler: 
"  Die  Psychoanalyse  Freuds,"  Jahrbuch,  1910,  Vol.  II,  2nd  half. 

'Faust  (in  suicide  monologue): 

"Out  on  the  open  ocean  speeds  my  dreaming! 
The  glassy  flood  before  my  feet  is  gleaming! 
\  A  new  day  beckons  to  a  newer  shore  I 

A  fiery  chariot,   borne  on   buoyant  pinions. 
Sweeps  near  me  now;  I  soon  shall  ready  be 
To  pierce  the  ether's  high,  unknown  dominions, 
To  reach  new  spheres  of  pure  activity! 
This  godlike  rapture,  this  supreme  existence 
Do  I,  but  now  a  worm,  deserve  to  track? 
Yes,  resolute  to  reach  some  brighter  distance; 
On  Earth's  fair  sun  I  turn  my  back! 

Ah,  that  no  wing  can  lift  me  from  the  soil, 
Upon  its  tract  to  follow,  follow  soaring! 
Then  would  I  see  eternal  Evening  gild 
The  silent  world  beneath  me  glowing. 


P 


And  now  before  mine  eyes  expands  the  ocean. 
With  all  its  bays  in  shining  sleep! 

The  newborn  impulse  fires  my  mind, 
I  hasten  on,  his  beams  eternal  drinking." 
We  see  it  is  the  same  longing  and  the  same  sun. 


500  THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH         [pp.  87-126 

^"Compare  Jung:  "  Diagnost.  Assoc.  Stud.";  also  "The  Psychology  of 
Dementia  Praecox,"   Chs.  II  and  III. 

^^  According  to  the  Christian  conception  God  is  Love. 

^^  Apuleius  ("Met.,"  lib.  XI,  257)  :  "At  manu  dextera  gerebam  flammis 
adultam  facem:  et  caput  decora  corona  cinxerat  palmae  candidae  foliis 
in  modum  radiorum  prosistentibus.  Sic  ad  instar  solis  exornato  et  in  vicem 
simulacri  constituto  "  (Then  in  my  right  hand  I  carried  a  burning  torch; 
while  a  graceful  chaplet  encircled  my  head,  the  shining  leaves  of  the 
palm  tree  projecting  from  it  like  rays  of  light.  Thus  arrayed  like  the 
sun,  and  placed  so  as  to  resemble  a  statue). 

^^  The  parallel  in  the  Christian  mysteries  is  the  crowning  with  the 
crown  of  thorns,  the  exhibition  and  mocking  of  the  Savior. 

"In  the  same  way  the  Sassanian  Kings  called  themselves  "Brothers 
of  the  Sun  and  of  the  Moon."  In  Egypt  the  soul  of  every  ruler  was  a 
reduplication  of  the  Sun  Horus,  an  incarnation  of  the  sun. 

^^  "  The  rising  at  day  out  of  the  Underworld."  Erman:  "  Aegypten," 
p.  409. 

**  Compare  the  coronation  above.  Feather,  a  symbol  of  power. 
Feather  crown,  a  crown  of  rays,  halo.  Crowning,  as  such,  is  an  identi- 
fication with  the  sun.  For  example,  the  spiked  crown  upon  the  Roman 
coins  made  its  appearance  at  the  time  when  the  Caesars  were  identified 
with  Sol  invictus  ("Solis  invicti  comes").  The  halo  is  the  same,  that 
is  to  say,  an  image  of  the  sun,  just  as  is  the  tonsure.  The  priests  of  Isis 
had  smooth-shaven  heads  like  stars.     (See  Apuleius,  "Metamorphoses.") 

^'  Compare  with  this  my  statements  in  "  Uber  die  Bedeutung  des  Vaters 
fiir  das  Schicksal  des  Einzelnen."     Deuticke,  Wien. 

**  In  the  text  of  the  so-called  Mithra  Liturgy  are  these  lines:  '"Eyw 
ftjU«  ffii/ZTT/lavof  vfuv  aa-fjp  Koi  Ik  tov  ^aQovq  avaTld/nrcjv — rnvra  aov  e'lTruvTog  evBiu^ 
6  SioKoc  dn?iuSf/aeTaf."  (I  am  a  star  wandering  about  with  you  and  flam- 
ing up  from  the  depths.  When  thou  hast  said  this,  immediately  the  disc 
of  the  sun  will  unfold).  The  mystic  through  his  prayers  implored  the 
divine  power  to  cause  the  disc  of  the  sun  to  expand.  In  the  same  way 
Rostand's  "  Chantecler  "  causes  the  sun  to  rise  by  his  crowing. 

"  For  verily  I  say  unto  you.  If  ye  have  faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard 
seed,  ye  shall  say  unto  this  mountain,  Remove  hence  to  yonder  place; 
and  it  shall  remove;  and  nothing  shall  be  impossible  unto  you"  (Mat- 
thew xvii:2o). 

^*  Compare  especially  the  words  of  the  Gospel  of  John:  "I  and  my 
Father  are  one"  (John  x:3o).  "He  that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the 
Father"  (John  xiv:9).  "Believe  me  that  I  am  in  the  Father,  and  the 
Father  in  me"  (John  xiv:ii).  "I  came  forth  from  the  Father,  and 
am  come  into  the  world;  again,  I  leave  the  world,  and  go  to  the  Father" 
(John  xvi:28).  "I  ascend  unto  my  Father,  and  your  Father;  and  to 
my  God,  and  your  God"   (John  xx:i7). 

^^  See  the  footnote  on  p.  137  of  text. 

'*  Two-bodied:  an  obscure  epithet,  if  one  does  not  admit  that  the  dual 
life  of  the  redeemed,  taught  in  the  mysteries  of  that  time,  was  attributed 
to  God,  that  is  to  say,  to  the  libido.  Compare  the  Pauline  conception 
of  the  au/xa  aapKiK6v  and  nvevfiariKdv  (carnal  and  spiritual  body).  In 
the  Mithraic  worship,  Mithra  seems  to  be  the  divine  spirit,  while  Helios 


pp.  87-126]        THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  501 

is   the   material   god;    to    a   certain   extent   the   visible   lieutenant   of   the 
divinity.     Concerning  the  confusion  between  Christ  and  Sol,  see  below. 

"Compare  Freud:  "Three  Contributions  to  the  Sexual  Theory." 

^^  Renan  ("Dialogues  et  fragments  philosophiques,"  p.  i68)  says: 
"Before  religion  had  reached  the  stage  of  proclaiming  that  God  must 
be  put  into  the  absolute  and  ideal,  that  is  to  say,  beyond  this  world,  one 
worship  alone  was  reasonable  and  scientific:  that  was  the  worship  of 
the  sun." 

^*Buber:  "  Ekstat.  Konfess.,"  p.  51  and  on. 

"  "  Liebesgesange  an  Gott,"  cited  by  Buber:  "Ekstat.  Konfess.," 
p.  40.  An  allied  symbolism  is  found  in  Carlyle:  "The  great  fact  of  exist- 
ence is  great  to  him.  Fly  as  he  will,  he  can  not  get  out  of  the  awful 
presence  of  this  reality.  His  mind  is  so  made;  he  is  great  by  that  first 
of  all.  Fearful  and  wonderful,  real  is  life,  real  is  death,  is  this 
universe  to  him.  Though  all  men  should  forget  its  truth,  and  walk  in 
a  vain  show,  he  can  not.  At  all  moments  the  Flame-image  glares  in 
upon  him"   ("Heroes  and  Hero-Worship "). 

One  can  select  from  literature  at  random.  For  example,  S.  Friedlander 
(Berlin-Halensee)  says  in  Jugend,  1910,  No.  35,  p.  823:  "Her  longing 
demands  from  the  beloved  only  the  purest.  Like  the  sun,  it  burns  to 
ashes  with  the  flame  of  excessive  life,  which  refuses  to  be  light,"  and 
so  on. 

"Buber:  Ibid.,  p.  45. 

"  I  emphasize  this  passage  because  its  idea  contains  the  psychological 
root  of  the  "Wandering  of  the  soul  in  Heaven,"  the  conception  of  which 
is  very  ancient.  It  is  a  conception  of  the  wandering  sun  which  from 
its  rising  to  its  setting  wanders  over  the  world.  The  wandering  gods 
are  representations  of  the  sun,  that  is,  symbols  of  the  libido.  This 
comparison  is  indelibly  impressed  in  the  human  phantasy  as  is  shown  by 
the  poem  of  Wesendonck: 

Grief. 

The  sun,  every  evening  weeping, 

Reddens  its  beautiful  eyes  for  you; 

When  early  death  seizes  you. 

Bathing  in  the  mirror  of  the  sea.  , 

Still  in  its  old  splendor 

The  glory  rises  from  the  dark  world; 

You  awaken  anew  in  the  morning 

Like  a  proud  conqueror. 

Ah,  why  then  should  I  lament. 

When  my  heart,  so  heavy,  sees  you? 

Must  the  sun  itself  despair? 

Must  the  sun  set? 

And  does  death  alone  bear  life? 

Do  griefs  alone  give  joys? 

O,  how  grateful  I  am  that 

Such  pains  have  given  me  nature! 
Another  parallel  is  in  the  poem  of  Ricarda  Huch: 
As  the  earth,  separating  from  the  sun. 
Withdraws  in  quick  flight  into  the  stormy  night, 


502  THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH        [pp.  87-126 

Starring  the  naked  body  with  cold  snow, 
Deafened,  it  takes  away  the  summer  joy. 
And  sinking  deeper  in  the  shadows  of  winter, 
Suddenly  draws  close  to  that  which  it  flees, 
Sees  itself  warmly  embraced  with  rosy  light 
Leaning  against  the  lost  consort. 
Thus  I  went,  suffering  the  punishment  of  exile. 
Away  from  your  countenance,  into  the  ancient  place. 
Unprotected,  turning  to  the  desolate  north, 
Always  retreating  deeper  into  the  sleep  of  death; 
And  then  would  I  awake  on  your  heart. 
Blinded  by  the  splendor  of  the  dawn. 

**  The  whistling  and  snapping  is  a  tasteless,  archaic  relic,  an  allure- 
ment for  the  theriomorphic  divinity,  probably  also  an  infantile  rem- 
iniscence (quieting  the  child  by  whistling  and  snapping).  Of  similar 
significance  is  the  roaring  at  the  divinity.  ("Mithr.  Lit.,"  p.  13):  "You 
are  to  look  at  him  and  give  forth  a  long  roar,  as  with  a  horn,  using  all 
your  breath,  pressing  your  sides,  and  kiss  the  amulet  .  .  .  etc."  "  My 
soul  roars  with  the  voice  of  a  hungry  lion,"  says  Mechthild  von  Magde- 
burg. "  As  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water  brooks,  so  panteth  my  soul 
after  God." — Psalms  xlii:2.  The  ceremonial  custom,  as  so  often  happens, 
has  dwindled  into  a  figure  of  speech.  Dementia  praecox,  however, 
revivifies  the  old  custom,  as  in  the  "  Roaring  miracle  "  of  Schreber.  See 
the  latter's  "  Denkwiirdigkeiten  eines  Nervenkranken,"  by  which  he  de- 
mands that  God,  i.e.  the  Father,  so  inadequately  oriented  with  humanity, 
take  notice  of  his  existence. 

The  infantile  reminiscence  is  clear,  that  is,  the  childish  cry  to  attract 
the  attention  of  the  parent  to  himself;  the  whistling  and  smacking  for  the 
allurement  of  the  theriomorphic  attribute,  the  "helpful  animal."  (See 
Rank:  "The  Myth  of  the  Birth  of  the  Hero.") 

"  The  water-god  Sobk,  appearing  as  a  crocodile,  was  identified  with 
Re. 

"Erman:  "Aegypten,"  p.  354. 

'^Erman:  Ibid.,  p.  355. 

"  Compare  above  aarepag  nevTa6aKTvliaiovg  ("  five-fingered  stars  "). 

^^  The  bull  Apis  is  a  manifestation  of  Ptah.  The  bull  is  a  well-known 
symbol  of  the  sun. 

'*  Amon. 

"  Sobk  of  Faijum. 

''  The  God  of  Dedu  in  the  Delta,  who  was  worshipped  as  a  piece  of 
wood.     (Phallic.) 

^'  This  reformation,  which  was  inaugurated  with  much  fanaticism, 
soon  broke  down. 

'^Apuleius,  "Met.,"  lib.  XI,  p.  239. 

'"  It  is  noteworthy  that  the  humanists  too  (I  am  thinking  of  an  expres- 
sion of  the  learned  Mutianus  Rufus)  soon  perceived  that  antiquity  had 
but  two  gods,  that  is,  a  masculine  god  and  a  feminine  god. 

*"  Not  only  was  the  light-  or  fire-substance  ascribed  to  the  divinity 
but  also  to  the  soul;   as  for  example  in  the  system  of  Mani,  as  well   as 


f 


pp.  87-126]        THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  503 

among  the  Greeks,  where  it  was  characterized  as  a  fiery  breath  of  air. 
The  Holy  Ghost  of  the  New  Testament  appears  in  the  form  of  flames 
around  the  heads  of  the  Apostles,  because  the  TTvevfia  was  under- 
stood to  mean  "fiery"  (Dieterich:  Ibid.,  p.  ii6).  Very  similar  is  the 
Iranian  conception  of  Hvareno,  by  which  is  meant  the  "  Grace  of 
Heaven"  through  which  a  monarch  rules.  By  "Grace"  is  understood 
a  sort  of  fire  or  shining  glory,  something  very  substantial  (Cumont: 
Ibid.,  p.  70).  We  come  across  conceptions  allied  in  character  in  Kerner's 
"  Seherin  von  Prevorst,"  and  in  the  case  published  by  me,  "  Psychologic 
und  Pathologic  sogenannter  occulter  Phanomene."  Here  not  only  the 
souls  consist  of  a  spiritual  light-substance,  but  the  entire  world  is  con- 
structed according  to  the  white-black  system  of  the  Manichaeans — and 
this  by  a  fifteen-year-old  girl!  The  intellectual  over-accomplishment 
which  I  observed  earlier  in  this  creation,  is  now  revealed  as  a  con- 
sequence of  energetic  introversion,  which  again  roots  up  deep  historical 
strata  of  the  soul  and  in  which  I  perceive  a  regression  to  the  memories 
of  humanity  condensed  in  the  unconscious. 

■**  I  add  to  this  a  quotation  from  Firmicus  Maternus  (Mathes.  I,  5,  9, 
cit.  by  Cumont:  "  Textes  et  Monuments,"  I,  p.  40):  "  Cui  (animo) 
descensus  per  orbem  solis  tribuitur  "  (To  this  spirit  the  descent  through 
the  orb  of  the  sun  is  attributed). 

'*''  St.  Hieronymus  remarks,  concerning  Mithra  who  was  born  in  a 
miraculous  manner  from  a  rock,  that  this  birth  was  the  result  of  "  solo 
aestu  libidinis "  (merely  through  the  heat  of  the  libido)  (Cumont: 
"Textes  et  Monuments,"  I,  p.  163). 

■"Mead:  "A  Mithraic  Ritual."     London  1907,  p.  22. 

**  I  am  indebted  to  my  friend  and  co-worker.  Dr.  Riklin,  for  the 
knowledge  of  the  following  case  which  presents  an  interesting  symbolism. 
It  concerns  a  paranoic  who  passed  over  into  a  manifest  megalomaniac 
in  the  following  way:  She  suddenly  saw  a  strong  light,  a  ivind  bleiv  upon 
her,  she  felt  as  if  "  her  heart  turned  over,"  and  from  that  moment  she 
knew  that  God  had  visited  her  and  was  in  her. 

I  wish  to  refer  here  to  the  interesting  correlation  of  mythological  and 
pathological  forms  disclosed  in  the  analytical  investigation  of  Dr.  S. 
Spielrein,  and  expressly  emphasize  that  she  has  discovered  the  sym- 
bolisms presented  by  her  in  the  Jahrbuch,  through  independent  experi- 
mental work,  in  no  way  connected  with  my  work. 

^^  According  to  the  Chaldean  teaching  the  sun  occupies  the  middle 
place  in  the  choir  of  the  seven  planets. 

*^  The  Great  Bear  consists  of  seven  stars. 

*'  Mithra  is  frequently  represented  with  a  knife  in  one  hand  and  a 
torch  in  the  other.  The  knife  as  an  instrument  of  sacrifice  plays  an 
important  role  in  his  myth. 

''  Ibid. 

**  Compare  with  this  the  scarlet  mantle  of  Helios  in  the  Mithra  liturgy. 
It  was  a  part  of  the  rites  of  the  various  cults  to  be  dressed  in  the  bloody 
skins  of  the  sacrificial  animals,  as  in  the  Lupercalia,  Dionysia  and 
Saturnalia,  the  last  of  which  has  bequeathed  to  us  the  Carnival,  the 
typical  figure  of  which,  in  Rome,  was  the  priapic  Pulcinella. 


504  THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH        [pp.  87-126 

*"  Compare  the  linen-clad  retinue  of  Helios.  Also  the  bull-headed  gods 
wear  white   nepil^uftara   (aprons). 

"The  title  of  Mithra  in  Vendidad  XIX,  28;  cit.  by  Cumont:  "  Textes 
et  Monuments,"  p.  37. 

*'  The  development  of  the  sun  symbol  in  Faust  does  not  go  as  far  as 
an  anthropomorphic  vision.  It  stops  in  the  suicide  scene  at  the  chariot 
of  Helios  ("A  fiery  chariot  borne  on  buoyant  pinions  sweeps  near  me 
now").  The  fiery  chariot  comes  to  receive  the  dying  or  departing  hero, 
as  in  the  ascension  of  Elijah  or  of  Mithra.  (Similarly  Francis  of 
Assisi.)  In  his  flight  Faust  passes  over  the  sea,  just  as  does  Mithra. 
The  ancient  Christian  pictorial  representations  of  the  ascension  of 
Elijah  are  partly  founded  upon  the  corresponding  Mithraic  representa- 
tions. The  horses  of  the  sun-chariot  rushing  upwards  to  Heaven  leave 
the  solid  earth  behind,  and  pursue  their  course  over  a  water  god,  Oceanus, 
lying  at  their  feet.  (Cumont:  "Textes  et  Monuments."  Bruxelles  1899, 
I,  p.  178.) 

*^  Compare  my  article,  "  Psych,  und  Path.  sog.  occ.  Phan." 

"*  Quoted  from  Pitra:  "  Analecta  sacra,"  cit.  by  Cumont:  "Textes  et 
Monuments,"  p.  355. 

"Cited  from  Usener:  "  Weihnachtsfest,"  p.  5. 

**  The  passage  from  Malachi  is  found  in  chap,  iv,  2:  "But  unto  you 
that  fear  my  name  shall  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  arise  with  healing  in 
His  wings"  (feathers).  This  figure  of  speech  recalls  the  Egyptian  sun 
symbol. 

*' Cumont:  "Textes  et  Monuments,"  t.  I,  p.  355.    nepl  acTpovdfiuv. 

'^  The  pictures  in  the  Catacombs  contain  much  symbolism  of  the  sun. 
The  Swastika  cross,  for  example — a  well-known  image  of  the  sun,  wheel 
of  the  sun,  or  sun's  feet — is  found  upon  the  garment  of  Fossor  Diogenes 
in  the  cemetery  of  Peter  and  Marcellinus.  The  symbols  of  the  rising  sun, 
the  bull  and  the  ram,  are  found  in  the  Orpheus  fresco  of  the  cemetery 
of  the  holy  Domitilla.  Similarly  the  ram  and  the  peacock  (which,  like 
the  phoenix,  is  the  symbol  of  the  sun)  is  found  upon  an  epitaph  of  the 
Callistus  Catacomb. 

°*  Compare  the  countless  examples  in  Gorres:  "Die  christliche 
Mystik." 

*"  Compare  Leblant:  "  Sarcophages  de  la  Gaule,"  1880.  In  the  "Homi- 
lies" of  Clement  of  Rome  ("Hom.,"  II,  23,  cit.  by  Cumont)  it  is  said: 
H(J  Kvp!(f}  yeyovdaiv  6i)deKa  andaro^oi  tuv  tov  ifkiov  6u6eKa  /iTjvfjv  <pepovTEq 
rbv  apiBfidv  (The  twelve  apostles  of  the  Lord,  having  the  number  of 
the  twelve  months  of  the  sun).  As  is  apparent,  this  idea  is  concerned 
with  the  course  of  the  sun  through  the  Zodiac.  Without  wishing  to  enter 
upon  an  interpretation  of  the  Zodiac,  I  mention  that,  according  to  the 
ancient  view  (probably  Chaldean),  the  course  of  the  sun  was  represented 
by  a  snake  which  carried  the  signs  of  the  Zodiac  on  its  back  (similarly 
to  the  Leontocephalic  God  of  the  Mithra  mysteries).  This  view  is  proven 
by  a  passage  from  a  Vatican  Codex  edited  by  Cumont  in  another  con- 
nection (190,  saec.  XIII,  p.  229,  p.  85):  "t6te  6  Travcocpoq  irifitovpyb^  oKpu 
VEVfiari  'cKlvrjae  tov  fiiyav  SpaKovra  avv  t(J  KEKoajirifitvu  aT£<pdv(f),  TiEyu  dr;  to.  1^'  C,ij- 
6ia,  ^aardl^ovTa  inl  tov  vutov  avrov"  (The  all-wise  maker  of  the  world 
set  in  motion  the  great  dragon  with  the  adorned  crown,  with  a  command 


pp.  87-126]        THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  505 

at  the  end.     I   speak   now   of   the   twelve   images   borne  on  the   back  of 
this). 

This  inner  connection  of  the  ^ojSia  (small  images)  with  the  zodiacal 
snake  is  worthy  of  notice  and  gives  food  for  thought.  The  Manichaean 
system  attributes  to  Christ  the  symbol  of  the  snake,  and  indeed  of  the 
snake  on  the  tree  of  Paradise.  For  this  the  quotation  from  John  gives 
far-reaching  justification  (John  iii:i4):  "And  as  Moses  lifted  up  the 
serpent  in  the  wilderness,  even  so  must  the  son  of  man  be  lifted  up." 
An  old  theologian,  Hauff  ("Biblische  Real-  und  Verbalkonkordanz," 
1834),  makes  this  careful  observation  concerning  this  quotation:  "Christ 
considered  the  Old  Testament  story  an  unintentional  symbol  of  the  idea 
of  the  atonement."  The  almost  bodily  connection  of  the  followers  with 
Christ  is  well  known.  (Romans  xii:4)  :  "For  as  we  have  many  members 
in  one  body,  and  all  members  have  not  the  same  office,  so  we  being 
many  are  one  body  in  Christ,  and  every  one  members  one  of  another." 
If  confirmation  is  needed  that  the  zodiacal  signs  are  symbols  of  the  libido, 
then  the  sentence  in  John  i'.zg,  "Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh 
away  the  sin  of  the  world,"  assumes  a  significant  meaning. 

'^According  to  an  eleventh-century  manuscript  in  Munich;  Albrecht 
Wirth:  "  Aus  orientalischen  Chroniken,"  p.  151.     Frankfurt  1894. 

""Abeghian:   "  Der   armenische  Volksglaube,"   p.  41,   1899. 

*^  Compare  Aigremont:  "Fuss-  und  Schuhsymbolik,"  Leipzig  1909. 

**  Attis  was  later  assimilated  with  Mithra.  Like  Mithra  he  was 
represented  with  the  Phrygian  cap  (Cumont:  "  Myst.  des  Mith.,"  p.  65). 
According  to  the  testimony  of  Hieronymus,  the  manger  (Geburtshohle) 
at  Bethlehem  was  originally  a  sanctuary  (Spelaeum)  of  Attis  (Usener: 
"  Weihnachtsfest,"  p.  283). 

'"Cumont  ("Die  Mysterien  des  Mithra,"  p.  4)  says  of  Christianity 
and  Mithracism:  "Both  opponents  perceived  with  astonishment  how 
similar  they  were  in  many  respects,  without  being  able  to  account  for  the 
causes  of  this  similarity." 

*°  Our  present-day  moral  views  come  into  conflict  with  this  wish  in  so 
far  as  it  concerns  the  erotic  fate.  The  erotic  adventures  necessary  for 
so  many  people  are  often  all  too  easily  given  up  because  of  moral 
opposition,  and  one  willingly  allows  himself  to  be  discouraged  because 
of  the  social  advantages  of  being  moral. 

"  The  poetical  works  of  Lord  Byron. 

*' Edmond  Rostand:  "Cyrano  de  Bergerac,"  Paris  1898. 

"The  projection  into  the  "cosmic"  is  the  primitive  privilege  of  the 
libido,  for  it  enters  into  our  perception  naturally  through  all  the  avenues 
of  the  senses,  apparently  from  without,  and  in  the  form  of  pain  and 
pleasure  connected  with  the  objects.  This  we  attribute  to  the  object 
without  further  thought,  and  we  are  inclined,  in  spite  of  our  philosophic 
considerations,  to  seek  the  causes  in  the  object,  which  often  has  very 
little  concern  with  it.  (Compare  this  with  the  Freudian  conception  of 
Transference,  especially  Firenczi's  remarks  in  his  paper,  "  Introjektion 
und  Ubertragung,"  Jahrbuch,  Vol.  I,  p.  422.)  Beautiful  examples 
of  direct  libido  projection  are  found  in  erotic  songs: 

"  Down  on  the  strand,  down  on  the  shore, 
A  maiden  washed  the  kerchief  of  her  lover; 
And  a  soft  west  wind  came  blowiiig  over  the  shore, 


5o6  THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH        [pp.  87-126 

Lifted  her  skirt  a  little  with  its  breeze 

And  let  a  little  of  her  ankles  be  seen, 

And  the  seashore  became  as  bright  as  all  the  world." 

(Neo-Grecian  Folksong  from  Sanders:  "Das  Volks- 
leben  der  Neugriechen,"  1844,  p.  81,  cit.  Zeit- 
scnft  des  Vere'vs  *ur  Volkskunde,  Jahrgang  XII, 
1902,  p.  i66.) 

"  In  the  farm  of  Gymir  I  saw 
A  lovely  maiden  coming  toward  me; 
From  the  brilliance  of  her  arm  glowed 
The  sky  and  all  the  everlasting  sea." 

(From  the  Edda,  tr.  (into  Ger.)  by  H.  Gering,  p. 
53;  Zeitschrift  fur  Volkskunde,  Jahrgang  XII,  1902, 
p.  167.) 

Here,  too,  belong  all  the  miraculous  stories  of  cosmic  events,  phenomena 
occurring  at  the  birth  and  death  of  heroes.  (The  Star  of  Bethlehem; 
earthquakes,  the  rending  asunder  of  the  temple  hangings,  etc.,  at  the 
death  of  Christ.)  The  omnipotence  of  God  is  the  manifest  omnipotence 
of  the  libido,  the  only  actual  doer  of  wonders  which  we  know.  The 
symptom  described  by  Freud,  as  the  "  omnipotence  of  thought  "  in  Com- 
pulsion Neuroses  arises  from  the  "  sexualizing "  of  the  intellect.  The 
historical  parallel  for  this  is  the  magical  omnipotence  of  the  mystic, 
attained  by  introversion.  The  "  omnipotence  of  thought  "  corresponds  to 
the  identification  with  God  of  the  paranoic,  arrived  at  similarly  through 
introversion. 

^^  Comparable    to   the   mythological    heroes    who    after    their    greatest 
deeds  fall  into  spiritual  confusion. 

^*  Here  I  must  refer  you  to  the  blasphemous  piety  of  Zinzendorf,  which 
has  been  made  accessible  to  us  by  the  noteworthy  investigation  of  Pfister. 

'^  Anah  is  really  the  beloved  of  Japhet,  the  son  of  Noah.     She  leaves 
him  because  of  the  angel. 

"  The  one  invoked  is  really  a  star.     Compare  Miss  Miller's  poem. 

'*  Really  an  attribute  of  the  wandering  sun. 

'"  Compare  Miss  Miller's  poem. 

"  My  poor  life  is  gone, 


then  having  gained 


One  raptured  glance,  I'll  die  content. 

For  I  the  source  of  beauty,  warmth  and  life 

Have  in  his  perfect  splendor  once  beheld." 

'*  The  light-substance  of  God. 

"  The  light-substance  of  the  individual  soul. 

'*  The  bringing  together  of  the  two  light-substances  shows  their 
common  origin;  they  are  the  symbols  of  the  libido.  Here  they  are  figures 
of  speech.  In  earlier  times  they  were  doctrines.  According  to  Mechthild 
von  Magdeburg  the  soul  is  made  out  of  love  ("  Das  fliessende  Licht  der 
Gottheit,"  herausgegeben  von  Escherich,  Berlin  1909). 

'*  Compare  what  is  said   above  about  the  snake  symbol  of  the  libido. 


pp.  87-126]        THE  SONG  OF  THE  MOTH  507 

The   idea  that  the  climax  means   at  the  same  time  the  end,  even  death 
forces  itself  here. 

*"  Compare  the  previously  mentioned  pictures  of  Stuck:  Vice,  Sin  and 
Lust,  where  the  woman's  naked  body  is  encircled  by  the  snake.  Funda- 
mentally it  is  a  symbol  of  the  most  extreme  rear  of  death.  The  death 
of  Cleopatia  may  be  mentioned  he/t. 

**  Encircling  by  the  serpent. 


PART  II 


CHAPTER  I 

*  This  is  the  way  it  appears  to  us  from  the  psychological  standpoint. 
Sec  below. 

^Samson  as  Sun-god.  See  Steinthal:  "Die  Sage  von  Simson,"  Zeit- 
schrift  fur  Iblkerpsychologie,  Vol.  II. 

^  I  am  indebted  for  the  knowledge  of  this  fragment  to  Dr.  Van 
Ophuijsen  of   The   Hague. 

^  Rudra,  properly  father  of  the  Maruts  (winds),  a  wind  or  sun  god, 
appears  here  as  the  sole  creator  God,  as  shown  in  the  course  of  the 
text.  The  role  of  creator  and  fructifier  easily  belongs  to  him  as  wind 
god.  I  refer  to  the  observations  in  Part  I  concerning  Anaxagoras  and 
to  what  follows. 

"This  and  the  following  passages  from  the  Upanishads  are  quoted 
from:  "The  Upanishads,"  translated  by  R.  G.  S.  Mead  and  J.  C.  Chat- 
topadhyaya.     London  1896. 

*  In  a  similar  manner,  the  Persian  sun-god  Mithra  is  endowed  with 
an  immense  number  of  eyes. 

^  Whoever  has  in  himself,  God,  the  sun,  is  immortal,  like  the  sun. 
Compare  Pt.  I,  Ch.  5. 

*  He  was  given  that  name  because  he  had  introduced  the  phallic  cult 
into  Greece.  In  gratitude  to  him  for  having  buried  the  mother  of  the 
serpents,  the  young  serpents  cleaned  his  ears,  so  that  he  became  clairaudi- 
ent  and  understood  the  language  of  birds  and  beasts. 

°  Compare  the  vase  picture  of  Thebes,  where  the  Cabiri  are  repre- 
sented in  noble  and  in  caricatured  form  (in  Roscher:  "Lexicon,"  s. 
Megaloi  Theoi). 

*"  The  justification  for  calling  the  Dactyli  thumbs  is  given  in  a  note 
in  Pliny:  37,  170,  according  to  which  there  were  in  Crete  precious  stones 
of  iron  color  and  thumblike  shape  which  were  called  Idaean  Dactyli. 

^^  Therefore,  the  dactylic  metre  or  verse. 

"See  Roscher:  "Lexicon  of  Greek  and  Roman  Mythology,"  s. 
Dactyli. 

^*  According  to  Jensen:  "  Kosmologie,"  p.  292,  Oannes-Ea  is  the  edu- 
cator of  men. 

*Mnman:  "Ancient  Pagan  and  Modern  Christian  Symbolism." 

^^  Varro  identifies  the  fieydTiOi  Beo'l  with  the  Penates.  The  Cabiri  might 
be  simulacra  duo  virilia  Castoris  et  Pollucis  in  the  harbor  of  Samothrace. 

**  In  Brasiae  on  the  Laconian  coast  and  in  Pephnos  some  statues 
only  a  foot  high  with  caps  on  their  heads  were  found. 

508 


pp.  127-138]      ASPECTS  OF  THE  LIBIDO  509 

"  That  the  monks  have  again  invented  cowls  seems  of  no  slight 
importance. 

^^  Zentralblatt  fiir  Psychoanalyse,  II,  p.   187. 

'"The  typical  motive  of  thf  youliifu  teacher  of  wisdom  has  also 
been  introduced  into  the  Christ  myth  in  the  scene  of  the  twelve-year-old 
Jesus  in  the  temple. 

"  Next  to  this,  there  is  a  female  figure  designated  as  KPATEIA, 
which  means  "one  who  brings  forth"    (Orphic). 

"Roscher:  "Lexicon,"  s.  v.  Megaloi  Theoi. 

^^Roscher:  "Lexicon,"  s.  v.  Phales. 

^^  Compare  Freud's  evidence,  Zeniralblatt  fiir  Psychoanalyse,  I, 
p.  188.  I  must  remark  at  this  place  that  etymologically  penis  and 
penates  are  not  grouped  together.  On  the  contrary,  ""tof,  ndadrj, 
Sanskrit  pdsa-h,  Latin  penis,  were  given  with  the  Middle  High  German 
visel  (penis)  and  Old  High  German  fasel  the  significance  of  foetus, 
proles.      (Walde:  "Latin  Etymologic,"  s.  Penis.) 

^*  Stekel  in  his  "  Traumsymbolik "  has  traced  out  this  sort  of  repre- 
sentation of  the  genitals,  as  has  Spielrein  also  in  a  case  of  dementia 
praecox.     1912  Jahrbuch,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  369. 

^°  The  figure  of  Kpdreia,  the  one  who  "  brings  forth,"  placed  beside 
it  is  surprising  in  that  the  libido  occupied  in  creating  religion  has 
apparently  developed  out  of  the  primitive  relation  to  the  mother. 

"In  Freud's  paper  ("  Psychoanalytische  Bemerkungen  iiber  einen 
Fall  von  Paranoia  usw.,"  1912  Jahrbuch,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  68),  which  ap- 
peared simultaneously  with  the  first  part  of  my  book,  he  makes  an 
observation  absolutely  parallel  to  the  meaning  of  my  remarks  con- 
cerning the  "libido  theory"  resulting  from  the  phantasies  of  the  insane 
Schreber:  Schreber's  divine  rays  composed  by  condensation  of  sun's  rays, 
nerve  fibres  and  sperma  are  really  nothing  else  but  the  libido  fixations 
projected  outside  and  objectively  represented,  and  lend  to  his  delusion 
a  striking  agreement  with  our  theory.  That  the  world  must  come  to 
an  end  because  the  ego  of  the  patient  attracts  all  the  rays  to  himself; 
that  later  during  the  process  of  reconstruction  he  must  be  very  anxious 
lest  God  sever  the  connection  of  the  rays  with  him:  these  and  certain 
other  peculiarities  of  Schreber's  delusion  sound  very  like  the  foregoing 
endopsychic  perceptions,  on  the  assumption  of  which  I  have  based  the 
interpretation  of  paranoia. 

^'  "  Tuscalanarum  quaestionum,"   lib.   IV. 

"  "  Pro  Quint.,"  14. 

^"  Walde:  "Latin  Etymological  Dictionary,"  1910.  See  libet.  Libert 
(children)  is  grouped  together  with  libet  by  Nazari  ("Riv.  di  Fil.," 
XXXVI,  573).  Could  this  be  proven,  then  Liber,  the  Italian  god 
of  procreation,  undoubtedly  connected  with  liberi,  would  also  be  grouped 
with  libet.  Libitina  is  the  goddess  of  the  dead,  who  would  have  nothing 
in  common  with  Lubentina  and  Lubentia  (attribute  of  Venus),  which 
belongs  to  libet;  the  name  is  as  yet  unexplained.  (Compare  the  later 
comments  in  this  work.)  Libare  ^=z  to  pour  (to  sacrifice?)  and  is  sup- 
posed to  have  nothing  to  do  with  liber.  The  etymology  of  libido  shows 
not   only   the   central    setting   of   the   idea,   but   also   the   connection   with 


5IO  CONCEPTION  AND  THEORY       [pp.  139-156 

the  German  Liebe  (love).  We  are  obliged  to  say  under  these 
circumstances  that  not  only  the  idea,  but  also  the  word  libido  is  well 
chosen  for  the  subject  under  discussion. 

^"  A  corrected  view  on  the  conservation  of  energy  in  the  light  of  the 
theory  of  cognition  might  offer  the  comment  that  this  picture  is  the  pro- 
jection of  an  endopsychic  perception  of  the  equivalent  transformations 
of  the  libido. 

CHAPTER  II 

*  Freud:  "Three  Contributions  to  the  Sexual  Theory,"  p.  29.  Trans- 
lation by  Brill.  "  In  a  non-sexual  '  impulse  '  originating  from  impulses 
of  motor  sources  we  can  distinguish  a  contribution  from  a  stimulus- 
receiving  organ,  such  as  the  skin,  mucous  membrane,  and  sensory 
organs.  This  we  shall  here  designate  as  an  erogenous  zone;  it  is  that 
organ  the  stimulus  of  which  bestows  on  the  impulse  the  sexual  char- 
acter." 

^  Freud:  Ibid.,  p.  14.  "One  definite  kind  of  contiguity,  consisting  of 
mutual  approximation  of  the  mucous  membranes  of  the  lips  in  the 
form  of  a  kiss,  has  among  the  most  civilized  nations  received  a  sexual 
value,  though  the  parts  of  the  body  concerned  do  not  belong  to  the  sexual 
apparatus  but  form  the  entrance  to  the  digestive  tract." 

'See  Freud:  Ibid. 

*  An  old  view  which  Mobius  endeavored  to  bring  again  to  its  own. 
Among  the  newcomers  it  is  Fouillee,  Wundt,  Beneke,  Spencer,  Ribot 
and  others,  who  grant  the  psychologic  primate  to  the  impulse  system. 

^  Freud:  Ibid.,  p.  25.  "I  must  repeat  that  these  psychoneuroses,  as 
far  as  my  experience  goes,  are  based  on  sexual  motive  powers.  I  do 
not  mean  that  the  energy  of  the  sexual  impulse  contributes  to  the  forces 
supporting  the  morbid  manifestations  (symptoms),  but  I  wish  distinctly 
to  maintain  that  this  supplies  the  only  constant  and  the  most  important 
source  of  energy  in  the  neurosis,  so  that  the  sexual  life  of  such  persons 
manifests  itself  either  exclusively,  preponderately,  or  partially  in  these 
symptoms." 

°  That  scholasticism  is  still  firmly  rooted  in  mankind  is  only 
too  easily  proven,  and  an  illustration  of  this  is  the  fact  that  not  the 
least  of  the  reproaches  directed  against  Freud,  is  that  he  has  changed 
certain  of  his  earlier  conceptions.  Woe  to  those  who  compel  mankind 
to  learn  anew!     "  Les  savants  ne  sont  pas  curieux." 

'  Jahrbuch,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  65. 

*  Schreber's  case  is  not  a  pure  paranoia  in  the  modern  sense. 
*Also  in  "Der  Inhalt  der  Psychose,"  1908. 

^"Compare  Jung:  "The  Psychology  of  Dementia  Praecox,"  p.  114. 

^*  For  example,  in  a  frigid  woman  who  as  a  result  of  a  specific  sexual 
repression  does  not  succeed  in  bringing  the  libido  sexualis  to  the  hus- 
band, the  parent  imago  is  present  and  she  produces  symptoms  which 
belong  to  that  environment. 

^^  Similar  transgression  of  the  sexual  sphere  might  also_  occur  in 
hysterical  psychoses;  that  indeed  is  included  with  the  definition  of  the 
psychosis  and  means  nothing  but  a  general  disturbance  of  adaptation. 


pp.  139-156]       CONCEPTION  AND  THEORY  511 

*'"Die  psychosexuellen  Differenzen  der  Hysteric  und  der  Dementia 
praecox,"  Zentralblatt  fur  Nervenheilkunde  und  Psychiatrie,  1908. 

"  "  Introjektion  und  Ubertragung,"  Jalirbuch,  Vol.  I,  p.  422. 

^*  See  Avenarius:  "  Menschliche  VVeltbegriffe,"  p.  25. 

18  "  Welt  als  Wille  und  Vorstellung,"  Vol.  I,  p.  54. 

"  "  Theogonie." 

^*  Compare  Roscher:  "Lexicon,"  p.  2248. 

^' Drews:  "  Plotinus,"  Jena  1907,  p.  127. 

*"  Ibid.,  p.  132. 

"Ibid.,  p.  135. 

^^  Plotinus:  "  Enneades,"  II,  5,  3. 

"Plotinus:  "Enneades,"  IV,  8,  3. 

*""  Enneades,"  III,  5,  9. 

"Ibid.,  p.  141. 

^°  Naturally  this  does  not  mean  that  the  function  of  reality  owes  its 
existence  to  the  differentiation  in  procreative  instincts  exclusively.  I  am 
aware  of  the  undetermined  great  part  played  by  the  function  of 
nutrition. 

"  Malthusianism  is  the  artificial  setting  forth  of  the  natural  tendency. 

^*  For  instance,  in  the  form  of  procreation  as  in  general  of  the  will. 

**  Freud  in  his  work  on  paranoia  has  allowed  himself  to  be  carried 
over  the  boundaries  of  his  original  conception  of  libido  by  the  facts  of 
this  illness.  He  there  uses  libido  even  for  the  function  of  reality,  which 
cannot  be  reconciled  with   the   standpoint  of  the  "  Three   Contributions." 

"  Bleuler  arrives  at  this  conclusion  from  the  ground  of  other  con- 
siderations, which  I  cannot  always  accept.  See  Bleuler,  "  Dementia 
Praecox,"  in  Aschaffenburg's  "Handbuch  der  Psychiatrie." 

'^  See  Jung:  "  Kritik  iiber  E.  Bleuler:  Zur  Theorie  des  schizophrenen 
Negativismus."     Jalirbuch,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  469. 

^^Spielrein:  "  Uber  den  psychologischen  Inhalt  eines  Falles  von 
Schizophrenie."    Jahrbuch,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  329. 

^'  His  researches  are  in  my  possession  and  their  publication  is  in 
preparation. 

^*  Honegger  made  use  of  this  example  in  his  lecture  at  the  private 
psychoanalytic  congress  in  Niirnberg,   1910. 

^^Spielrein:  Ibid.,  pp.  338,  353,  387.  For  soma  as  the  "effusion  of 
the  seed,"  see  what  follows. 

^"Compare  Berthelot:  "  Les  Alchemistes  Grecs,"  and  Spielrein:  Ibid., 
P-  353- 

'  I  cannot  refrain  from  observing  that  this  vision  reveals  the  original 
meaning  of  alchemy.  A  primitive  magic  power  for  generation,  that  is 
to  say,  a  means  by  which  children  could  be  produced  without  the  mother. 


I 


512  THE  TRANSFORMATION  [pp.  157-190 

''Spielrein:  Ibid.,  pp.  338,  345. 

"  I  must  mention  here  those  Indians  who  create  the  first  people  from 
the  union  of  a  sword  hilt  and  a  shuttle. 

"Ibid.,  p.  399. 

CHAPTER  III 

*  Naturally  a  precursor  of  onanism. 

'  This  true  catatonic  pendulum  movement  of  the  head,  I  saw  arise 
in  the  case  of  a  catatonic  patient,  from  the  coitus  movements  gradually 
shifted  upwards.  This  Freud  has  described  long  ago  as  a  shifting  from 
below  to  above. 

'  She  put  the  small  fragments  which  fell  out  into  her  mouth  and  ate 
them. 

*"  Dreams  and  Myths."  Vienna  1909.  Translated  by  Wm.  A.  White, 
M.D. 

^A.  Kuhn:  "  Mythologische  Studien,"  Vol.  I:  "Die  Herabkunft  des 
Feuers  und  des  Gottertrankes."  Giitersloh  1886.  A  very  readable 
resume  of  the  contents  is  to  be  found  in  Steinthal:  "Die  urspriingliche 
Form  der  Sage  von  Prometheus,"  Zeitschrift  fiir  Volkerpsychologie  und 
Sprach<w'tssenschaft,  Vol.  II,  1862;   also  in  Abraham:  Ibid. 

*  Also  mathnami  and  mathayati.  The  root  manth  or  math  has  a 
special  significance. 

''Zeitschrift  fiir  fergleichende  Sprachforschung,  Vol.  II,  p.  395,  and 
Vol.  IV,  p.  124. 

®  Bapp  in  Roscher's  "  Lexicon,"  Sp.  3034. 

"  Bhrgu:=z  (p'keyv,  a  recognized  connection  of  sound.  See  Roscher:  Sp. 
3034.  54- 

^'' For  the  eagle  as  a  fire  token  among  the  Indians,  see  Roscher:  Sp. 
3034,  60. 

^^  The  stem  manth  according  to  Kuhn  becomes  in  German 
mangeln,  rollen  (referring  to  washing).  Manthara  is  the  butter 
paddle.  When  the  gods  generated  the  amrta  (drink  of  immortality) 
by  twirling  the  ocean  around,  they  used  the  mountain  Mandara  as  the 
paddle  (see  Kuhn:  Ibid.,  p.  17).  Steinthal  calls  attention  to  the  Latin 
expression  in  poetical  speech:  mentula  z=  male  member,  in  which  ment 
(manth)  was  used.  I  add  here  also,  mentula  is  to  be  taken  as  diminu- 
tive for  menla  or  mentha  (fii^v^o)^  Minze.  In  antiquity  the  Minze  was 
called  "Crown  of  Aphrodite"  (Dioscorides,  II,  154).  Apuleius  called 
it  "mentha  venerea";  it  was  an  aphrodisiac.  (The  opposite  meaning  is 
found  in  Hippocrates:  Si  quis  earn  saepe  comedat,  ejus  genitale  semen 
ita  colliquescit,  ut  effluat,  et  arrigere  prohibet  et  corpus  imbecillum  reddit, 
and  according  to  Dioscorides,  Minze  is  a  means  of  preventing  conception. 
(See  Aigremont:  "  Volkserotik  und  Pflanzenwelt,"  Vol.  I,  p.  127).  But  the 
ancients  also  said  of  Menta:  "  Menta  autem  appellata,  quod  suo  odore 
mentem  feriat — mentae  ipsius  odor  animum  excitat."  This  leads  us  to 
the  root  ment — in  Latin  mens;  English,  mind — with  which  the  parallel 
development  to  pramanlha,  Ufjo/xTj^evg,  would  be  completed.  Still  to  be 
added  is  that  an  especially  strong  chin  is  called  mento  (mentum). 
A  special  development  of  the  chin  is  given,  as  we  know,  to  the  priapic 


pp.  157-190]      THE  TRANSFORMATION  513 

figure  of  Pulcinello,  also  the  pointed  beard  (and  ears)  of  the  satyrs  and 
the  other  priapic  demon,  just  as  in  general  all  the  protruding  parts  of 
the  body  can  be  given  a  masculine  significance  and  all  the  receding 
parts  or  depressions  a  feminine  significance.  This  applies  also  to  all 
otlier  animate  or  inanimate  objects.  See  Maeder:  Fsycho.-Neurol. 
Wochenschr.,  X.  Jahrgang.  However,  this  whole  connection  is  more 
than  a  little  uncertain. 

^'  Abraham  observes  that  in  Hebrew  the  significance  of  the  words 
for  man  and  woman  is  related  to  this  symbolism. 

^^  "  What  is  called  the  gulya  (pudendum)  means  the  yoni  (the  birth- 
place) of  the  God;  the  fire,  which  was  born  there,  is  called  'beneficent'" 
("  Katyayanas  Karmapradipa,"  I,  7;  translated  by  Kuhn:  "  Herab- 
kunft  des  Feuers,"  p.  67).  The  etym.ologic  connection  between  bohren — 
geboren  is  possible.  The  Germanic  boron  (to  bore)  is  primarily  related 
to  the  Latin  jorare  and  the  Greek  (papdcj  =  to  plow.  Possibly  it  is 
an  Indo-Germanic  root  bher  with  the  meaning  to  bear;  Sanscrit  bhar-; 
Greek  <p(p-',  Latin  fer-;  from  this  Old  High  German  beran,  English  to 
bear,  Latin  fero  and  fertilis,  fordus  (pregnant)  ;  Greek  (pnpdq.  Walde 
("Latin  Etj'm.,"  s.  Ferio)  traces  forare  to  the  root  bher-.  Compare  with 
this  the  phallic  s3'mbolism  of  the  plough,  which  we  meet  later  on. 

^*  Weber:  "  Indische  Studien,"  I,   197;  quoted  by  Kuhn:  Ibid.,  p.  71. 

*°  "  Rigveda,"  HI,  29 — i  to  3. 

^°  Or  mankind  in  general.  Vicpatni  is  the  feminine  wood,  vi^pati,  an 
attribute  of  Agni,  the  masculine.  In  the  instruments  of  fire  lies  the 
origin  of  the  human  race,  from  the  same  perverse  logic  as  in  the  before- 
mentioned  shuttle  and  sword-hilt.  Coitus  as  the  means  of  origin  of 
the  hnman  race  must  be  denied,  from  the  motive,  to  be  more  fully  dis- 
cussed later,  of  a  primitive  resistance  against  sexuality. 

^'  Wood  as  the  symbol  of  the  mother  is  well  known  from  the  dream 
investigation  of  the  present  time.  See  Freud:  "Dream  Interpretation." 
Stekel  ("  Sprache  des  Traumes,"  p.  128)  explains  it  as  the  symbol  of 
the  woman.  Wood  is  also  a  German  vulgar  term  for  the  breast. 
("Wood  before  the  house.")  The  Christian  wood  symbolism  needs  a 
chapter  by  itself.  The  son  of  Ha:  Ha  is  the  daughter  of  Manus,  the 
one  and  only,  who  with  the  help  of  his  fish  has  overcome  the  deluge, 
and  then  with  his  daughter  again  procreated  the  human  race. 

^^  See  Hirt:  "Etymologic  der  neuhochdeutschen  Sprache,"  p.  348. 

''The  capitular  of  Charlemagne  of  942  forbade  "those  sacrilegious 
fires  which  are  called  Niedfyr."  See  Grimm:  "  Mythologie,"  4th  edition, 
p.  502.  Here  there  are  to  be  found  descriptions  of  similar  fire  cere- 
monies. 

=°Kuhn:  Ibid.,  p.  43. 

"Preuss:  "Globus,"  LXXXVI,  1905,  S.  358. 

"Compare  with  this  Friedrich  Schultze:  "Psychologic  dcr  Natur- 
volker,"  p.  161. 

"'This  primitive  play  leads  to  the  phallic  symbolism  of  the  plough. 
'Apovv  means  to  plough  and  possesses  in  addition  the  poetic  meaning 
of  impregnate.  The  Latin  arare  means  merely  to  plough,  but  the  phrase 
"  fundum    alienum    arare "    means    "  to    pluck    cherries    in    a    neighbor's 


514  THE  TRANSFORMATION  [pp.  157-190 

garden."  A  striking  representation  of  the  phallic  plough  is  found  on 
a  vase  in  the  archeological  museum  in  Florence.  It  portrays  a  row 
of  six  naked  Ithyphallic  men  who  carry  a  plough  represented  phallically 
(Dieterich:  "Mutter  Erde,"  p.  107).  The  "  carrus  navalis"  of  our 
spring  festival  (carnival)  was  at  times  during  the  Middle  Ages  a 
plough  (Hahn:  "  Demeter  und  Baubo,"  quoted  by  Dieterich:  Ibid.,  p. 
109).  Dr.  Abegg  of  Zurich  called  my  attention  to  the  clever  work  of 
R.  Meringer  ("Worter  und  Sachen.  Indogermanische  Forschungen,"  i6, 
179/84,  1904).  We  are  made  acquainted  there  with  a  very  far-reaching 
amalgamation  of  the  libido  symbols  with  the  external  materials  and 
external  activities,  which  support  our  previous  considerations  to  an 
extraordinary  degree.  Meringer's  assumption  proceeds  from  the  two 
Indo-Germanic  roots,  uen  and  ueneti.  Indo-Germanic  *uen  Holz,  ai. 
ist.  Tan,  lana.  Agni  is  garbhas  vandm,  "  fruit  of  the  womb  of  the 
woods." 

Indo-Germanir  *ueneti  signifies  "he  ploughs":  by  that  is  meant  the 
penetration  of  the  ground  by  means  of  a  sharpened  piece  of  wood  and 
the  throwing  up  of  the  earth  resulting  from  it.  This  verb  itself  is  not 
verified  because  this  very  primitive  working  of  the  ground  was  given 
up  at  an  early  time.  When  a  better  treatment  of  the  fields  was  learned, 
the  primitive  designation  for  the  ploughed  field  was  given  to  the  pasture, 
therefore  Gothic  linja,  voiiij.  Old  Icelandic  vin,  pasture,  meadow.  Per- 
haps also  the  Icelandic  Vanen,  as  Gods  of  agriculture,  came  from  that. 

From  arkern  (to  plough)  sprang  coire  (the  connection  might  have 
been  the  other  way);  also  Indo-Germanic  *  uenos  (enjoyment  of  love), 
Latin  Tenus.  Compare  with  this  the  root  «<?«=:  wood.  CoiV^  =  pas- 
sionately to  strive;  compare  Old  High  German  I'innan,  to  rave  or  to 
storm;  also  the  Gothic  Tens;  « /iTrtf  =  hope ;  Old  High  German  Tjan^z: 
expectation,  hope;  Sanscrit  Tan,  to  desire  or  need;  further,  IVonne  (de- 
light, ecstasy)  ;  Old  Icelandic  Tinr  (beloved,  friend).  From  the  meaning 
ackern  (to  plough)  arises  Ti-ohnen  (to  live).  This  transition  has  been 
completed  only  in  the  German.  From  nuohnen-^gevjnhnen,  geivohnt  sein 
(10  be  accustomed).  Old  Icelandic  Tanr  ^:=  geivohnt  (to  be  accustomed); 
from  ackern  further— ►jif//  tniihen,  plagen  (to  take  much  trouble,  wearing 
work).  Old  Icelandic  TUina,  to  work:  Old  High  German  tvinnan  (to  toil 
hard,  to  overwork);  Gothic  Tinnan,  naaxei-v]Tunns,''^a&Tjfia.  From  ackern 
comes,  on  the  other  hand,  geiuinnen  erlangen  (to  win,  to  attain).  Old 
High  German  giiiinnan,  but  also  Terletzen  (to  injure)  :  Gothic  Tunds 
(tvund),  wound.  IVund  in  the  beginning,  the  most  primal  sense,  was 
therefore  the  ground  torn  up  by  the  wooden  implement.  From  Terletzen 
(to  injure)  come  schlagen  (to  strike),  besiegen  (to  conquer):  Old  High 
German  'ucinna   (strife)  ;  Old  Saxon  ixinnan   (to  battle). 

'*  The  old  custom  of  making  the  "bridal  bed"  upon  the  field,  which 
■was  for  the  purpose  of  rendering  the  field  fertile,  contains  the  primitive 
thought  in  the  most  elementary  form;  by  that  the  analogy  was  expressed 
in  the  clearest  manner:  Just  as  I  impregnate  the  woman,  so  do  I  impreg- 
nate the  earth.  The  symbol  leads  the  sexual  libido  over  to  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  earth  and  to  its  fruitfulness.  Compare  with  that  Mannhardt: 
"  Wald-  und  Feldkulte,"  where  there  are  abundant  illustrations. 

^^  Spielrein's  patient  {Jahrbuch,  III,  p.  371)  associates  fire  and  genera- 
tion in  an  unmistakable  manner.  She  says  as  follows  concerning  it: 
"One  needs  iron  for  the  purpose  of  piercing  the  earih  and  for  the 
purpose  of  creating  fire."  This  is  to  be  found  in  the  Mithra  liturgy  as 
well.     In  the  invocation  to  the  fire  god,  it  is  said:    0    avvdjjaaq    nvEVfiaTt 


I 


pp.  157-190]        THE  TRANSFORMATION  515 

Ta  -ipiva  K).Ei-dpa  tov  ovpavov  (Thou  who  hast  closed  up  the  fien-  locks  of 
heaven,  with  the  breath  of  the  spirit, — open  to  me).  "With  iron  one 
can  create  cold  people  from  the  stone.'"  The  bori.^g  into  the  earth  has 
for  her  the  meaning  of  fructification  or  birth.  She  says:  "With  the 
glowing  iron  one  can  pierce  through  mountains.  The  iron  becomes 
glowing  when  one  pushes  it  into  a  stone." 

Compare  with  this  the  etymology-  of  boliren  and  gelLren  (see  above). 
In  the  "  Bluebird  ''  of  Maeterlinck  the  two  children  who  seek  the  bluebird 
in  the  land  of  the  unborn  children,  find  a  boy  who  bores  into  his  nose. 
It  is  said  of  him:  he  will  discover  a  new  fire,  so  as  to  warm  the  earth 
again,  when  it  will  have  grown  cold. 

'*  Compare  with  this  the  interesting  proofs  in  Bucher:  "Arbeit  und 
Rhjthmus,"  Leipzig  1899. 

"  Amusement  is  undoubtedly  coupled  with  many  rites,  but  by  no  means 
with  all.     There  are  some  very  unpleasant  things. 

^*  The  Upanishads  belong  to  the  Brahmana,  to  the  theolog}-  of  the 
Vedic  writings,  and  comprise  the  theosophical-speculative  part  of  the 
Vedic  teachings.  The  Vedic  writings  and  collections  are  in  part  of 
very  uncertain  age  and  may  reach  back  to  a  ver>'  distant  past  because 
for  a  long  period  they  were  handed  down  only  orally. 

*'  The  primal  and  omniscient  being,  the  idea  of  whom,  translated 
into  psychology-,  is  comprehended  in  the  conception  of  libido. 

'"  Atman  is  also  considered  as  originally  a  bisexual  beings-correspond- 
ing to  the  libido  theory.  The  world  sprang  from  desire.  Compare 
Brihaddranyaka-U panishad,  I,  4,  i   (Deussen) : 

"(i)   In    the    beginning    this    world    was    Atman    alone — he    looked 

around:  Then  he  saw  nothing  but  himself. 
"(2)   Then  he  was  frightened;  therefore,  one  is  afraid,  when  one  is 

alone.      Then    he    thought:    Wherefore    should    I    be    afraid, 

since  there  is  nothing  beside  myself  ? 
"(3)   But   also   he  had   no  joy,   therefore   one   has   no  joy  when  one 

is  alone.     Then  he  longed  for  a  companion." 

After  this  there  follows  the  description  of  his  division  quoted  above. 
Plato's  conception  of  the  world-soul  approaches  very  near  to  the  Hindoo 
idea.  "  The  soul  in  no  wise  needed  eyes,  because  near  it  there  was 
nothing  visible.  Nothing  was  separate  from  it,  nothing  approached  it, 
because  outside  of  it  there  was  nothing"   ("Timaios"). 

**  Compare  with  this  Freud's  "  Three  Contributions  to  the  Sexual 
Theory." 

"  What  seems  an  apparently  close  parallel  to  the  position  of  the  hand 
in  the  Upanishad  text  I  observed  in  a  little  child.  The  child  held  one 
hand  before  his  mouth  and  rubbed  it  with  the  other,  a  movement  which 
may  be  compared  to  that  of  the  violinist.  It  was  an  early  infantile 
habit  which  persisted  for  a  long  time  afterwards. 

"Compare  Freud:  "  Bemerkungen  iiber  einen  Fall  von  Zwangs- 
neurose."     1912  Jahrbuch,  Vol.  I,  p.  357. 

'*  As  shown  above,  in  the  child  the  libido  progresses  from  the  mouth 
zone  into  the  sexual  zone. 


5i6  THE  TRANSFORMATION         [pp.  157-190 

°'  Compare  what  has  been  said  above  about  Dactyli.  Abundant  ex- 
amples are  found  in  Aigremont:  "Fuss-  und  Schuhsymbolik." 

'°  When,  in  the  enormously  increased  sexual  resistance  of  the  present 
day,  women  emphasize  the  secondary  signs  of  sex  and  their  erotic 
charm  by  specially  designed  clothing,  that  is  a  phenomenon  which  belongs 
in  the  same  general  scheme  for  the  heightening  of  allurement. 

"  It  is  well  known  that  the  orifice  of  the  ear  has  also  a  sexual  value.  In 
a  hymn  to  the  Virgin  it  is  called  "quae  per  aurem  concepisti."  Rabelais' 
Gargantua  was  born  through  his  mother's  ear.  Bastian  ("Beitrage  z. 
vergl.  Psychologic,"  p.  238)  mentions  the  following  passage  from 
an  old  work,  "  There  is  not  to  be  found  in  this  entire  kingdom,  even 
among  the  very  smallest  girls,  a  maiden,  because  even  in  her  tender 
youth  she  puts  a  special  medicine  into  her  genitals,  also  in  the  orifice  of 
her  ears;  she  stretches  these  and  holds  them  open  continuously." — Also 
the  Mongolian  Buddha  was  born  from  the  ear  of  his  mother. 

'*  The  driving  motive  for  the  breaking  up  of  the  ring  might  be  sought, 
as  I  have  already  intimated  in  passing,  in  the  fact  that  the  secondary 
sexual  activity  (the  transformed  coitus)  never  is  or  would  be  adapted 
to  bring  about  that  natural  satiety,  as  is  the  activity  in  its  real  place. 
With  this  first  step  towards  transformation,  the  first  step  towards  the 
characteristic  dissatisfaction  was  also  taken,  which  later  drove  man 
from  discovery  to  discovery  without  allowing  him  ever  to  attain  satiety. 
Thus  it  looks  from  the  biological  standpoint,  which  however  is  not  the 
only  one  possible. 

"Translated  by  Mead  and  Chattopadhyaya.     Sec.  i,  Pt.  II. 

*"  In  a  song  of  the  Rigveda  it  is  said  that  the  hymns  and  sacrificial 
speeches,  as  well  as  all  creation  in  general,  have  proceeded  from  the 
"entirely  fire  consumed"  Purusha    (primitive  man-creator  of  the  world). 

"^Compare  Brugsch:  "Religion  und  Myth.  d.  alt.  Aegypter,"  p.  255  f., 
and  the  Egyptian  dictionary. 

"'  The  German  word  "  Schwan  "  belongs  here,  therefore  it  sings  when 
dying.  It  is  the  sun.  The  metaphor  in  Heine  supplements  this  very 
beautifully. 

"  Es  singt  der  Schwan  im  Weiher 
Und  rudert  auf  und  ab, 
Und  immer  leiser  singend, 
Taucht  er  ins  Flutengrab." 

Hauptmann's  "  Sunken  Bell  "  is  a  sun  myth  in  which  bell  =  sun  =:  life  = 
libido. 

^'Loosely  connected  with  ag-ilis.  See  Max  Miiller:  "  Vorl.  iiber  den 
Ursprung  und  die  Entwicklung  der  Religion,"  p.  237. 

■•*  An  Eranian  name  of  fire  is  Nairyocagha  =  masculine  word.  The 
Hindoo  Nard(;amsa  means  wish  of  men  (Spiegel:  "  Eran.  Altertumskunde," 
II,  49).  Fire  has  the  significance  of  Logos  (compare  Ch.  7,  "Sieg- 
fried"). Of  Agni  (fire),  Max  Miiller,  in  his  introduction  to  "The  Science 
of  Comparative  Religions,"  says:  "It  was  a  conception  familiar  to 
India  to  consider  the  fire  upon  the  altar  as  being  at  the  same  time 
subject  and  object.  The  fire  burned  the  sacrifice  and  was  thereby  similar 
to  the  priest,  the  fire  carried  the  sacrifice  to  the  gods,  and  was  thereby 
an    intercessor   between   men    and   the   gods:   fire   itself,    however,    repre- 


pp.  157-190]  THE  TRANSFORMATION  517 

sented  also  something  divine,  a  god,  and  when  honor  was  to  be  shown 
to  this  god,  then  fire  was  as  much  the  subject  as  the  object  of  the 
sacrifice.  Hence  the  first  conception,  that  Agni  sacrificed  itself,  i.e._  that 
it  produced  for  itself  its  own  sacrifice,  and  next  that  it  brings  itself 
to  the  sacrifice."  The  contact  of  this  line  of  thought  with  the  Christian 
symbol  is  plainly  apparent.  Krishna  utters  the  same  thought  in  the 
"  Bhagavad-Gita,"  b.  IV    (translated  by  Arnold,  London   1910)  : 

"All's  then  God! 
The  sacrifice  is  Brahm,  the  ghee  and  grain 
Are  Brahm,  the  fire  is  Brahm,  the  flesh  it  eats 
Is  Brahm,  and  unto  Brahm  attaineth  he 
Who,  in  such  office,  meditates  on  Brahm." 

The  wise  Diotima  sees  behind  this  symbol  of  fire  (in  Plato's  sym- 
posium, c.  23).  She  teaches  Socrates  that  Eros  is  "the  intermediate 
being  between  mortals  and  immortals,  a  great  Demon,  dear  Socrates; 
for  everything  demoniac  is  just  the  intermediate  link  between  God  and 
man."  Eros  has  the  task  "  of  being  interpreter  and  messenger  from 
men  to  the  gods,  and  from  the  gods  to  men,  from  the  former  for  their 
prayers  and  sacrifices,  from  the  latter  for  their  commands  and  for 
their  compensations  for  the  sacrifices,  and  thus  filling  up  the  gap  between 
both,  so  that  through  his  mediation  the  whole  is  bound  together  with 
itself."  Eros  is  a  son  of  Penia  (poverty,  need)  generated  by  Poros 
intoxicated  with  nectar.  The  meaning  of  Poros  is  dark;  n6poc  means  way 
and  hole,  opening.  Zielinski:  "Arch.  f.  Rel.  Wissensch.,"  IX,  43  ff., 
places  him  with  Phoroneus,  identical  with  the  fire-bringer,  who  is  held 
in  doubt;  others  identify  him  with  primal  chaos,  whereas  others  read 
arbitrarily  Kdpof  and  Mopog.  Under  these  circumstances,  the  question 
arises  whether  there  may  not  be  sought  behind  it  a  relatively  simple 
sexual  symbolism.  Eros  would  be  then  simply  the  son  of  Need  and  of 
the  female  genitals,  for  this  door  is  the  beginning  and  birthplace  of 
fire.  Diotima  gives  an  excellent  description  of  Eros:  "He  is  manly, 
daring,  persevering,  a  strong  hunter  (archer,  compare  below)  and  an 
incessant  intriguer,  who  is  constantly  striving  after  wisdom, — a  powerful 
sorcerer,  poison  mixer  and  sophist;  and  he  is  respected  neither  as  an 
immortal  nor  as  a  mortal,  but  on  the  same  day  he  first  blooms  and 
blossoms,  when  he  has  attained  the  fulness  of  the  striving,  then  dies 
in  it  but  always  awakens  again  to  life  because  of  the  nature  of  his 
father  (rebirth!);  attainment,  however,  always  tears  him  down 
again."  For  this  characterization,  compare  Chs.  V,  VI  and  VII  of  this 
work. 

^'Compare  Riklin:  "Wish  Fulfilment  and  Symbolism  in  Fairy  Tales," 
translated  by  Wm.  White,  M.D.,  where  a  child  is  produced  by  the 
parents  placing  a  little  turnip  in  the  oven.  The  motive  of  the  furnace 
where  the  child  is  hatched  is  also  found  again  in  the  type  of  the  whale- 
dragon  myth.  It  is  there  a  regularly  recurring  motive  because  the  belly 
of  the  dragon  is  very  hot,  so  that  as  the  result  of  the  heat  the  hero 
loses  his  hair — that  is  to  say,  he  loses  the  characteristic  covering  of  hair 
of  the  adult  and  becomes  a  child.  (Naturally  the  hair  is  related  to 
the  sun's  rays,  which  are  extinguished  in  the  setting  of  the  sun.) 
Abundant  examples  of  this  motive  are  in  Frobenius:  "Das  Zeitalter 
des  Sonnengottes,"  Vol.  I.     Berlin  1904. 

*°  This  aspect  of  Agni  is  similar  to  Dionysus,  who  bears  a  remarkable 
parallel  to  both  the  Christian  and  the  Hindoo  mythology. 


5i8  THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO     [pp.  191-232 

*' "  Now  everything  in  the  world  which  is  damp,  he  created  from 
sperma,  but  this  is  the  soma."     Brihaddratiyaka-Upani^had,  1-4. 

*^  The  question  is  whether  this  significance  was  a  secondary  develop- 
ment. Kuhn  seems  to  assume  this.  He  says  ("Herabkunft  des  Feuers," 
p.  18):  "However,  together  with  the  meaning  of  the  root  manth  already 
evolved,  there  has  also  developed  in  the  Vedas  the  conception  of  '  tearing 
off  *  due  naturally  to  the  mode  of  procedure." 

*' Examples  in  Frobenius:  "Das  Zeitalter  des  Sonnengottes." 

""See  in  this  connection  Stekel:  "Die  sexuelle  Wurzel  der  Klepto- 
manie,"  Zeitschrift  fiir  Sexualivissensckafi,  1908. 

'*  Even  in  the  Roman  Catholic  church  at  various  places  the  custom 
prevailed  for  the  priest  to  produce  once  a  year  the  ceremonial  fire. 

*'  I  must  remark  that  the  designation  of  onanism  as  a  "  great  dis- 
covery "  is  not  merely  a  play  with  words  on  my  part.  I  owe  it  to  two 
young  patients  who  pretended  that  they  were  in  possession  of  a  terrible 
secret;  that  they  had  discovered  something  horrible,  which  no  one  had 
ever  known  before,  because  had  it  been  known  great  misery  would  have 
overtaken  mankind.     Their  discovery  was  onanism. 

°'  One  must  in  fairness,  however,  consider  that  the  demands  of  life, 
rendered  still  more  severe  by  our  moral  code,  are  so  heavy  that  it 
•simply  is  impossible  for  many  people  to  attain  that  goal  which  can  be 
begrudged  to  no  one,  namely  the  possibility  of  love.  Under  the  cruel 
compulsion  of  domestication,  what  is  left  but  onanism,  for  those  people 
possessed  of  an  active  sexuality?  It  is  well  known  that  the  most 
useful  and  best  men  owe  their  ability  to  a  powerful  libido.  This  ener- 
getic libido  longs  for  something  more  than  merely  a  Christian  love  for 
the  neighbor. 

'*  I  am  fully  conscious  that  onanism  is  only  an  intermediate  phe- 
nomenon. There  always  remains  the  problem  of  the  original  division  of 
the  libido. 

°'  In  connection  with  my  terminology  mentioned  in  the  previous 
chapter,  I  give  the  name  of  autoerotic  to  this  stage  following  the  inces- 
tuous love.  Here  I  emphasize  the  erotic  as  a  regressive  phenomenon;  the 
libido  blocked  by  the  incest  barrier  regressively  takes  possession  of  an 
older  way  of  functioning  anterior  to  the  incestuous  object  of  love.  This 
may  be  comprehended  by  Bleuler's  terminologj',  Aiitismus,  that  is,  the  \ 
function  of  pure  self-preservation,  which  is  especially  distinguished  by 
the  function  of  nutrition.  However,  the  terminology  "autismus"  cannot 
very  well  be  longer  applied  to  the  presexual  material,  because  it  is 
already  used  in  reference  to  the  mental  state  of  dementia  praecox  where 
it  has  to  include  autoerotism  plus  introverted  desexualized  libido. 
Autismus  designates  first  of  all  a  pathological  phenomenon  of  regressive 
character,  the  presexual  material,  however,  of  a  normal  functioning,  the 
chrysalis  stage. 

CHAPTER  IV 

*  Therefore  that  beautiful  name  of  the  sun-hero  Gilgamesh:  Wehfroh- 
mensch  (pain-joy  human  being).     See  Jensen:  "Gilgamesh  Epic." 

"""   ?  Compare  here  the  interesting  researches  of  H.  Silberer.     1912  Jahr- 
buch,  Vol.  I,  p.  513. 


pp.  191-232]  THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO  519 

'  See  Bleuler:  Psyclilatr.-neurol.  IVochenschrift,  XII.  Jahrgang,  Nr. 
18  to  21. 

*  Compare  with  this  my  explanations  in  Jahrbuch,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  469. 

'  Compare  the  exhortation  by  Krishna  to  the  irresolute  Arjuna  in 
Bhagavad-Gita:  "But  thou,  be  free  of  the  pairs  of  opposites !  "  Bk.  II, 
"  The  Song  Celestial,"  Edwin  Arnold. 

'  "  Pensees,"  LIV. 

^    *  See  the  following  chapter. 

'Compare  John  Miiller:  "  Uber  die  phantastischen  Gesichtserschei- 
nungen,"  Coblenz  1826;  and  Jung:  "Occult  Phenomena,"  in  Collected 
Papers  on  Analytic  Psychology. 

'Also  the  related  doctrine  of  the  Upanishad. 

^^  Bertschinger:  "Illustrierte  Halluzinationen,"  Jahrbuih,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  69. 

*^  How  very  important  is  the  coronation  and  sun  identification,  is 
shown  not  alone  from  countless  old  customs,  but  also  from  the  corre- 
sponding ancient  metaphors  in  the  religious  speech:  the  Wisdom  of 
Solomon  \:i-j:  "Therefore,  they  will  receive  a  beautiful  crown  from 
the  hand  of  the  Lord."  I  Peter  v:4:  "Feed  the  flock  of  God  .  .  .  and 
when  the  chief  shepherd  shall  appear  ye  shall  receive  a  crown  of  glory 
that  fadeth   not  away." 

In  a  church  hymn  of  Allendorf  it  is  said  of  the  soul:  "The  soul  is 
liberated  from  all  care  and  pain  and  in  dying  it  has  come  to  the  croivn 
of  joy;  she  stands  as  bride  and  queen  in  the  glitter  of  eternal  splendor, 
at  the  side  of  the  great  king,"  etc.  In  a  hymn  by  Laurentius  Laurentii 
it  is  said  (also  of  the  soul):  "The  crown  is  entrusted  to  the  brides 
because  they  conquer."  In  a  song  by  Sacer  we  find  the  passage:  "Adorn 
my  coffin  with  garlands  just  as  a  conqueror  is  adorned, — from  those 
springs  of  heaven,  my  soul  has  attained  the  eternally  green  crown:  the 
true  glory  of  victory,  coming  from  the  son  of  God  who  has  so  cared 
for  me."  A  quotation  from  the  above-mentioned  song  of  Allendorf  is 
added  here,  in  which  we  have  another  complete  expression  of  the  primi- 
tive psychology  of  the  sun  identification  of  men,  which  we  met  in  the 
Egyptian  song  of  triumph  of  the  ascending  soul. 

(Concerning  the  soul,  continuation  of  the  above  passage:)  "It  [the 
soul]  sees  a  clear  countenance  [sun]  :  his  [the  sun's]  joyful  loving  nature 
now  restores  it  through  and  through :  it  is  a  light  in  his  light. — Now  the 
child  can  see  the  father:  He  feels  the  gentle  emotion  of  love.  Now  he 
can  understand  the  word  of  Jesus.  He  himself,  the  father,  has  loved 
you.  An  unfathomable  sea  of  benefits,  an  abyss  of  eternal  waves  of 
blessing  is  disclosed  to  the  enlightened  spirit:  he  beholds  the  countenance 
of  God,  and  knows  what  signifies  the  inheritor  of  God  in  light  and  the 
co-heir  of  Christ. — The  feeble  body  rests  on  the  earth:  it  sleeps  until 
Jesus  awakens  it.  Then  ivill  the  dust  become  the  sun,  which  now  is 
covered  by  the  dark  cavern:  Then  shall  we  come  together  with  all  the 
pious,  who  knows  how  soon,  and  will  be  for  eternity  with  the  Lord."  I 
have  emphasized  the  significant  passages  by  italics:  they  speak  for 
themselves,  so  that  I  need  add  nothing. 

^'  In  order  to  avoid  misunderstanding  I  must  add  that  this  was  abso- 
lutely unknown  to  the  patient. 


520  THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO     [pp.  191-232 

*'  The  analysis  of  an  eleven-year-old  girl  also  confirms  this.  I  gave 
a  report  of  this  in  the  I  Congres  International  de  Pedologie,  191 1,  in 
Brussels. 

^*  The  identity  of  the  divine  hero  with  the  mystic  is  not  to  be 
doubted.  In  a  prayer  written  on  papyrus  to  Hermes,  it  is  said:  av  yap 
eyc)  Kol  tyu  aii'  to  abv  bvofta  tfibv  Koi  to  tfibv  abv  tyc)  yap  elfii  rb  elQn^.dv  aov  (For 
thou  art  I  and  I  am  thou,  thy  name  is  mine,  and  mine  is  thine;  for 
I  am  thy  image).  (Kenyon:  Greek  Papyrus,  in  the  British  Museum, 
1893,  p.  116,  Pap.  CXXII,  2.  Cited  by  Dieterich:  "  Mithrasliturgie," 
p.  79.)  The  hero  as  image  of  the  libido  is  strikingly  illustrated  in  the 
head  of  Dionysus  at  Leiden  (Roscher,  I,  Sp.  1128),  where  the  hair  rises 
like  flame  over  the  head.  He  is — like  a  flame:  "Thy  savior  will  be 
a  flame."  Firmicus  Maternus  ("  De  Errore  Prof.  Relig.,"  104,  p.  28)  ac- 
quaints us  with  the  fact  that  the  god  was  saluted  as  bridegroom,  and 
"young  light."  He  transmits  the  corrupt  Greek  sentence,  <5e  wv^t 
Xaipe  vvv<j>E  veov  <jtug,  with  which  he  contrasts  the  Christian  conception: 
"Nullum  apud  te  lumen  est  nee  est  aliquis  qui  sponsus  mereatur  audire: 
unum  lumen  est,  unus  est  sponsus.  Nominum  horum  gratiam  Christus 
accepit."  Today  Christ  is  still  our  hero  and  the  bridegroom  of  the  soul. 
These  attributes  will  be  confirmed  in  regard  to  Miss  Miller's  hero  in 
what  follows. 

^'  The  giving  of  a  name  is  therefore  of  significance  in  the  so-called 
spiritual  manifestations.  See  my  paper,  1902,  "  Occult  Phenomena,"  Col- 
lected Papers  on  Analytical  Psychology. 

^^  The  ancients  recognized  this  demon  as  ffwoTrarfdf,  the  companion  and 
follower. 

*'  A  parallel  to  these  phantasies  are  the  well-known  interpretations 
of  the  Sella  Petri  of  the  pope. 

*'  When  Freud  called  attention  through  his  analytic  researches  to  the 
connection  betAveen  excrements  and  gold,  many  ignorant  persons  found 
themselves  obliged  to  ridicule  in  an  airy  manner  this  connection.  The 
mythologists  think  differently  about  it.  De  Gubernatis  says  that  excre- 
ment and  gold  are  always  associated  together.  Grimm  tells  us  of  the  fol- 
lowing magic  charm:  "If  one  wants  money  in  his  house  the  whole  year, 
one  must  eat  lentils  on  New  Year's  Day."  This  notable  connection  is 
explained  simply  through  the  physiological  fact  of  the  indigestibility  of 
lentils,  which  appear  again  in  the  form  of  coins.  Thus  one  becomes  a 
mint. 

*'  A  French  father  who  naturally  disagreed  with  me  in  regard  to  this 
interest  in  his  child  mentioned,  nevertheless,  that  when  the  child  speaks 
of  cacao,  he  always  adds  "lit";  he  means  caca-au-Iit. 

'"Freud:  Jahrbuch,  Vol.  I,  p.  i.  Jung:  Jahrbuch,  Vol.  II,  p.  33.  See 
third  lecture  delivered  at  Clark  University,  1909. 

'*  I  refer  to  the  previous  etymologic  connection.  { 

''Compare  Bleuler:  Jahrbuch,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  467. 

"  "  Genius  and  Insanity." 

'*  Here  again  is  the  connection  with  antiquity,  the  infantile  past  ' 

^°  This  fact  is  unknown  to  me.  It  might  be  possible  that  in  some 
way  the  name  of  the  legendary  man  who  invented  the  cuneiform  char- 


pp.  191-232]     THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO  521 

acters  has  been  preserved  (as,  for  example,  Sinlikiunnini  as  the  poet 
of  the  Gilgamesh  epic).  But  I  have  not  succeeded  in  finding  anything 
of  that  sort.  However,  Ashshurbanaplu  or  Asurbanipal  has  left  behind 
that  marvellous  cuneiform  library,  which  was  excavated  in  Kujundschik. 
Perhaps  "  Asurubama "  has  something  to  do  with  this  name.  Further 
there  comes  into  consideration  the  name  of  Aholibamah,  which  we  have 
met  in  Part  I.  The  word  "  Ahamarama  "  betrays  equally  some  connec- 
tions with  Anah  and  Aholibamah,  those  daughters  of  Cain  with  the 
sinful  passion  for  the  sons  of  God.  This  possibility  hints  at  Chiwantopel 
as  the  longed-for  son  of  God.  (Did  Byron  think  of  the  two  sister  whores, 
Ohola  and  Oholiba?     Ezeck.  xxiii:4.) 

"  The  race  does  not  part  with  its  wandering  sun-heroes.  Thus  it 
was  related  of  Cagliostro,  that  he  once  drove  at  the  same  time  four 
white  horses  out  of  a  city  from  all  the  city  gates  simultaneously 
(Helios!). 

^'  Mysticism. 

"^  Agni,  the  fire,  also  hides  himself  at  times  in  a  cavern.  Therefore 
he  must  be  brought  forth  again  by  generation  from  the  cavity  of  the 
female  wood.     Compare  Kuhn:  "  Herabk.  des  Feuers." 

"  We  =  Allah. 

'*  The  "  two-horned."  According  to  the  commentaries,  this  refers  to 
Alexander  the  Great,  who  in  the  Arabian  legends  plays  nearly  the  same 
role  as  the  German  Dietrich  von  Bern.  The  "  two-horned "  refers  to 
the  strength  of  the  sun-bull.  Alexander  is  often  found  upon  coins  with 
the  horns  of  Jupiter  Ammon.  It  is  a  question  of  identification  of  the 
ruler  around  whom  so  many  legends  are  clustered,  with  the  sun  of  spring 
in  the  signs  of  the  bull  and  the  ram.  It  is  obvious  that  humanity  had 
a  great  need  of  effacing  the  personal  and  human  from  their  heroes,  so 
as  finally  to  make  them,  through  a  fxeTaaraatg  (eclipse),  the  equal  of 
the  sun,  that  is  to  say,  completely  into  a  libido-symbol.  If  we  thought 
like  Schopenhauer,  then  we  would  surely  say,  Libido-symbol.  But  if  we 
thought  like  Goethe,  then  we  would  say.  Sun;  for  we  exist,  because  the 
sun  sees  us. 

"'Vollers:  "  Chidher.  Archiv  fiir  Religionswissenschaft,"  p.  235,  Vol. 
XII,  1909.  This  is  the  work  which  is  my  authority  on  the  Koran  com- 
mentaries. 

"^  Here  the  ascension  of  Mithra  and  Christ  are  closely  related.  See 
Part  I. 

'^  A  parallel   is  found  in  the  Mithra  mysteries!     See  below. 

*^  Parallel  to  this  are  the  conversations  of  Mohammed  with  Elias,  at 
which  the  sacramental  bread  was  served.  In  the  New  Testament  the 
awkwardness  is  restricted  to  the  proposal  of  Peter.  The  infantile  char- 
acter of  such  scenes  is  shown  by  similar  features,  thus  by  the  gigantic 
stature  of  Elias  in  the  Koran,  and  also  the  tales  of  the  commentary,  in 
which  it  is  stated  that  Elias  and  Chidher  met  each  year  in  Mecca, 
conversed  and  shaved  each  other's  heads. 

^°  On  the  contrary,  according  to  Matthew  xvii:ii,  John  the  Baptist  is 
to  be  understood  as  Elias. 

**  Compare  the  Kyffhauser  legend. 


522  THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO     [pp.  191-232 

"  Vollers:  Ibid. 

'*  Another  account  says  that  Alexander  had  been  in  India  on  the 
mountain  of  Adam  with  his  "  minister  "  Chidher. 

^'  These  mythological  equations  follow  absolutely  the  rule  of  dreams, 
where  the  dreamer  can  be  resolved  into  many  analogous  forms. 

*"  "  He  must  grow,  but  I  must  waste  away." — John  iii:30. 

■**  Cumont:  "  Textes  et  Monuments,"  p.  172. 

*^  The  parallel  between  Hercules  and  Mithra  may  be  drawn  even 
more  closely.  Like  Hercules,  Mithra  is  an  excellent  archer.  Judging 
from  certain  monuments,  not  only  the  youthful  Hercules  appears  to  be 
threatened  by  a  snake,  but  also  Mithra  as  a  youth.  The  meaning  of 
the  aG/lof  of  Hercules  (the  work)  is  the  same  as  the  Mithraic  mystery  of 
the  conquering  and  sacrifice  of  the  bull. 

*'  These  three  scenes  are  represented  in  a  row  on  the  Klagenfurt 
monument.  Thus  the  dramatic  connection  of  these  must  be  surmised 
(Cumont:  "  Myst.  des  Mithras"). 

**  Also  the  triple  crown. 

*'  The  Christian  sequence  is  John — Christ,  Peter — Pope. 

*'  The  immortality  of  Moses  is  proven  by  the  parallel  situation  with 
Elias  in  the  transfiguration. 

*' See  Frobenius:  "Das  Zeitalter  des  Sonnengottes." 

*"  Therefore  the  fish  is  the  symbol  of  the  "  Son  of  God  " ;  at  the  same ' 
time  the  fish  is  also  the  symbol  of  the  approaching  world-cycle. 

*'Riklin:  "Wish  Fulfilment  and  Symbolism." 

"*Inman:  "Ancient  Pagan  and  Modern  Christian  Symbolism." 

'*  The  amniotic  membrane (?). 

*^  The  Etrurian  Tages,  who  sprang  from  the  "  freshly  ploughed  fur- 
row," is  also  a  teacher  of  wisdom.  In  the  Litaolane  myth  of  the  Basutos, 
there  is  a  description  of  how  a  monster  devoured  all  men  and  left  only 
one  woman,  who  gave  birth  to  a  son,  the  hero,  in  a  stable  (instead  of  a 
cave:  see  the  etymology  of  this  myth).  Before  she  had  arranged  a  bed 
for  the  infant  out  of  the  straw,  he  was  already  grown  and  spoke  "  words 
of  wisdom."  The  quick  growth  of  the  hero,  a  frequently  recurring 
motive,  appears  to  mean  that  the  birth  and  apparent  childhood  of  the 
hero  are  so  extraordinary  because  his  birth  really  means  his  rebirth, 
therefore  he  becomes  very  quickly  adapted  to  his  hero  role.  Compare 
below.  I 

"  Battle  of  Re  with  the  night  serpent. 

•*  Matthew  iii:  11. 

"  "  Das  Gilgameshepos  in  der  Weltliteratur,"  Vol.  I,  p.  50. 

*'  The  difference  between  this  and  the  Mithra  sacrifice  seems  to  be 
extraordinarily  significant.  The  Dadophores  are  harmless  gods  of  light 
who  do  not  participate  in  the  sacrifice.  The  animal  is  lacking  in  the 
sacrifice  of  Christ.  Therefore  there  are  two  criminals  who  suffer  the 
same  death.     The  scene  is  much  more  dramatic.     The  inner  connection 


pp.  191-232]   THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HERO  523 

of  the  Dadophores  to  Mithra,  of  which  I  will  speak  later,  allows  us 
to  assume  the  same  relation  of  Christ  to  the  criminals.  The  scene  with 
Barabbas  betrays  that  Christ  is  the  god  of  the  ending  year,  who  is 
represented  by  one  of  the  thieves,  while  the  one  of  the  coming  year  is 
free. 

"For  example,  the  following  dedication  is  found  on  a  monument: 
D.  I.  M.  (Deo  Invicto  Mithrae)  Cautopati.  One  discovers  sometimes 
Deo  Mithrae  Caute  or  Deo  Mithrae  Cautopati  in  a  similar  alternation 
as  Deo  Invicto  Mithrae — or  sometimes  Deo  Invicto — or,  merely,  Invicto. 
It  also  appears  that  the  Dadophores  are  fitted  with  knife  and  bow,  the 
attributes  of  Mithra.  From  this  it  is  to  be  concluded  that  the  three 
figures  represent  three  different  states  of  a  single  person.  Compare 
Cumont:  "  Textes  et  Monuments,"  p.  208. 

"Cited  by  Cumont:  "Textes  et  Monuments,"  p.  208. 

"  Ibid. 

*"  Taurus  and  Scorpio  are  the  equinoctial  signs  for  the  period  from 
4300  to  2150  B.C.  These  signs,  long  since  superseded,  were  retained  even 
in  the  Christian  era. 

**  Under  some  circumstances,  it  is  also  sun  and  moon. 

**  In  order  to  characterize  the  individual  and  the  all-soul,  the  personal 
and  the  super-personal,  Atman,  a  verse  of  the  Shvetashvatara-Upanishad 
(Deussen)  makes  use  of  the  following  comparison: 

"  Zwei  schon  beflijgelte  verbundne  Freunde 
Umarmen  einen  und  denselben  Baum; 
Einer  von  ihnen  spelst  die  siisse  Beere, 
Der  andre  schaut,  nicht  essend,  nur  herab." 

(Two  closely  allied  friends,  beautifully  winged,  embrace  one 
and  the  same  tree;  One  of  them  eats  the  sweet  berries,  the  other 
not  eating  merely  looks  downwards.) 

"  Among  the  elements  composing  man,  in  the  Mithraic  liturgy,  fire  is 
especially  emphasized  as  the  divine  element,  and  described  as  to  ctf 
ifitjv  Kpaaiv  QcodupriTov  (The  divine  gift  in  my  composition).  Dietfich: 
Ibid.,  p.  58. 

'*  It  is  sufficient  to  point  to  the  loving  interest  which  mankind  and 
also  the  God  of  the  Old  Testament  has  for  the  nature  of  the  penis,  and 
how  much  depends  upon  it. 

*"  The  testicles  easily  count  as  twins.  Therefore  in  vulgar  speech 
the  testicles  are  called  the  Siamese  twins.  ("  Anthropophyteia,"  VII, 
p.  20.     Quoted  by  Stekel:  "  Sprache  des  Traumes,"  p.  169.) 

**  "  Recherches  sur  le  culte,  etc.,  de  Venus,"  Paris,  1837.  Quoted  by 
Inraan:  "Ancient  Pagan  and  Modern  Christian  Symbolism,"  New  York, 
p.  4. 

*'  The  androgynous  element  is  not  to  be  undervalued  in  the  faces  of 
Adonis,  Christ,  Dionysus  and  Mithra,  and  hints  at  the  bisexuality  of  the 
libido.  The  smooth-shaven  face  and  the  feminine  clothing  of  the  Catholic 
priest  contain   a  very  old  female  constituent  from  the  Attis-Cybele  cult. 

'*  Stekel  ("Sprache  des  Traumes")  has  again  and  again  noted  the 
Trinity  as  a  phallic  symbol.     For  example,  see  p.  27. 


524  SYMBOLISM  OF  THE  MOTHER  [pp.    233-306 

*'  Sun's  rays  =  Phalli. 

'"  In  a  Bakairi  myth  a  woman  appears,  who  has  sprung  from  a  corn 
mortar.  In  a  Zulu  myth  it  is  said:  A  woman  is  to  catch  a  drop  of  blood 
in  a  vessel,  then  close  the  vessel,  put  it  aside  for  eight  months  and  open 
it  in  the  ninth  month.  She  follows  the  advice,  opens  the  vessel  in  the 
ninth  month,  and  finds  a  child  in  it.  (Frobenius:  "Das  Zeitalter  des 
Sonnengottes  "   [The  Age  of  the  Sun-God],  I,  p.  237.) 

"  Inman:  Ibid.,  p.  10,  Plate  IX. 

'^Roscher:  "Lexicon,"  Sp.  2733/4.     See  section.  Men. 

'^  A  well-known  sun  animal,  frequent  as  a  phallic  symbol. 

'^  Like  Mithra  and  the  Dadophores. 

"The  castration  in  the  service  of  the  mother  explains  this  quotation 
in  a  very  significant  manner:  Exod.  iv:25:  "Then  Zipporah  took  a  sharp 
stone,  and  cut  off  her  son's  foreskin  and  cast  it  at  his  feet  and  said, 
Surely,  a  bloody  husband  art  thou  to  me."  This  passage  shows  what 
circumcision  means. 

'*  Gilgamesh,  Dionysus,  Hercules,  Christ,  Mithra,  and  so  on.  I 

"Compare  with  this,  Graf:  "  R.  Wagner  im  Fliegenden  Hollander: 
Schriften  zur  angewandten  Seelenkunde." 

"  I  have  pointed  out  above,  in  reference  to  the  Zosimos  vision,  that 
the  altar  meant  the  uterus,  corresponding  to  the  baptismal  font. 


CHAPTER  V 

*  Freud:  "Dream  Interpretation." 

'  I  am  indebted  to  Dr.  Abegg  in  Zurich  for  the  knowledge  of  Indra  and 
Urvara,  Domaldi  and  Rama. 

'  Medieval  Christianity  also  considered  the  Trinity  as  dwelling  in  the 
womb  of  the  holy  Virgin. 

■•"Symbolism,"  Plate  VIL 

*  Another  form  of  the  same  motive  is  the  Persian  idea  of  the  tree  of 
life,  which  stands  in  the  lake  of  rain,  Vourukasha.  The  seeds  of  this 
tree  were  mixed  with  water  and  by  that  the  fertility  of  the  earth  was 
maintained.  "  Vendidad,"  5,  57,  says:  The  waters  flow  "to  the  lake 
Vourukasha,  down  to  the  tree  Hvapa;  there  my  trees  of  many  kinds  all 
grow.  I  cause  these  waters  to  rain  down  as  food  for  the  pure  man, 
as  fodder  for  the  well-born  cow.  (Impregnation,  in  terms  of  the  pre- 
sexual  stage.)  Another  tree  of  life  is  the  white  Haoma,  which  grows 
in  the  spring  Ardvigura,  the  water  of  life."  Spiegel:  "  Eran.  Alter- 
tumskunde,"  I,  465,  467. 

'  Excellent  examples  of  this  are  given  in  the  work  of  Rank,  "  The 
Myth  of  the  Birth  of  the  Hero,"  translated  by  Wm.  White. 

"  Shadows  probably  mean  the  soul,  the  nature  of  which  is  the  same  as 
libido.     Compare  with  this  Part  I. 

"But  I  must  mention  that  Nork  ("  Realworterbuch,"  sub.  Theben  und 
Schifi)    pleads   that   Thebes   is   the   ship   city;    his    arguments    are   much 


'pp.  233-306]    SYMBOLISM  OF  THE  MOTHER  525 

attacked.  From  among  his  arguments  I  emphasize  a  quotation  from 
Diodorus  (I,  57),  according  to  which  Sesostris  (whom  Nork  associates 
with  Xisuthros)  had  consecrated  to  the  highest  god  in  Thebes  a  vessel 
280  els  long.  In  the  dialogue  of  Lucius  (Apuleius:  "  Metam.,"  lib.  II, 
28),  the  night  journey  in  the  sea  was  used  as  an  erotic  figure  of  speech: 
"  Hac  enim  sitarchia  navigium  Veneris  indiget  sola,  ut  in  nocte  pervigili 
et  oleo  lucerna  et  vino  calix  abundet"  (For  the  ship  of  Venus  needs 
this  provision  in  order  that  during  the  night  the  lamp  may  abound  with 
oil  and  the  goblet  with  wine).  The  union  of  the  coitus  motive  with 
the  motive  of  pregnancy  is  to  be  found  in  the  "  night  journey  on  the 
sea  "  of  Osiris,  who  in  his  mother's  womb  copulated  with  his  sister. 

'Very  illuminating  psychologically  is  the  method  and  the  manner  In 
which  Jesus  treats  his  mother,  when  he  harshly  repels  her.  Just  as 
strong  and  intense  as  this,  has  the  longing  for  her  imago  grown  in  his 
unconscious.  It  is  surely  not  an  accident  that  the  name  Mary  accom- 
panies him  through  life.  Compare  the  utterance  of  Matthew  x:35: 
"  I  have  come  to  set  a  man  at  variance  with  his  father,  a  daughter  with 
her  mother.  He  who  loves  father  and  mother  more  than  me  is  not 
worthy  of  me."  This  directly  hostile  purpose,  which  calls  to  mind  the 
legendary  role  of  Bertran  de  Born,  is  directed  against  the  incestuous 
bond  and  compels  man  to  transfer  his  libido  to  the  Saviour,  who,  dying, 
returning  into  his  mother  and  rising  again,  is  the  hero  Christ. 

"  Genitals. 

**  The  horns  of  the  dragon  have  the  following  attributes:  "They  will 
prey  upon  woman's  flesh  and  they  will  burn  with  fire."  The  horn,  a 
phallic  emblem,  is  in  the  unicorn  the  symbol  of  the  Holy  Ghost  (Logos). 
The  unicorn  is  hunted  by  the  archangel  Gabriel,  and  driven  into  the  lap 
of  the  Virgin,  by  which  was  understood  the  immaculate  conception.  But 
the  horns  are  also  sun's  rays,  therefore  the  sun-gods  are  often  horned. 
The  sun  phallus  is  the  prototype  of  the  horn  (sun  wheel  and  phallus 
wheel),  therefore  the  horn  is  the  symbol  of  power.  Here  the  horns 
"burn  with  fire"  and  prey  upon  the  flesh;  one  recognizes  in  this  a 
representation  of  the  pains  of  hell  where  souls  were  burnt  by  the  fire 
of  the  libido  (unsatisfied  longing).  The  harlot  is  "consumed"  or 
burned  by  unsatisfied  longing  (libido).  Prometheus  suffers  a  similar 
fate,  when  the  eagle,  sun-bird  (libido),  tears  his  intestines:  one  might 
also  say,  that  he  was  pierced  by  the  "  horn."  I  refer  to  the  phallic 
meaning  of  the  spear. 

*' In    the   Babylonian    underworld,    for    example.      The    souls    have    a 
i  feathery  coat  like  birds.     See  the  Gilgamesh  epic. 

"  In  a  fourteenth-century  Gospel  at  Bruges  there  is  a  miniature  where 
the  "woman"  lovely  as  the  mother  of  God  stands  with  half  her  body 
in  a  dragon. 

**rd  apv'iov,  little  ram,  diminutive  of  the  obsolete  ap^v  z=  ram.  (In 
Theophrastus  It  occurs  with  the  meaning  of  "young  scion.")  The 
related  word  apvi^  designates  a  festival  annually  celebrated  in  honor 
of  Linos,  in  which  the  Atvof,  the  lament  called  Linos,  was  sung  as  a 
lamentation  for  Linos,  the  new-born  son  of  Psamathe  and  Apollo,  torn 
to  pieces  by  dogs.  The  mother  had  exposed  her  child  out  of  fear  of 
iher  father  Krotopos.  But  for  revenge  Apollo  sent  a  dragon,  Poine, 
into  Krotopos'  land.  The  oracle  of  Delphi  commanded  a  yearly  lament 
by  women   and  maidens  for  the  dead  Linos.     A  part  of  the  honor  was 


526  SYMBOLISM  OF  THE  MOTHER  [pp.    233-306 

given  to  Psamathe.  The  Linos  lament  is,  as  Herodotus  shows  (II,  79), 
identical  with  the  Phoenician,  Cyprian  and  Egyptian  custom  of  the 
Adonis- (Tammuz)  lament.  As  Herodotus  observes,  Linos  is  called 
Maneros  in  Egypt.  Brugsch  points  out  that  Maneros  comes  from  the 
Egyptian  cry  of  lamentation,  maa-n-chru:  "come  to  the  call."  Poine  is 
characterized  by  her  tearing  the  children  from  the  womb  of  all  mothers. 
This  ensemble  of  motives  is  found  again  in  the  Apocalypse,  xii:i-5, 
where  it  treats  of  the  woman,  whose  child  was  threatened  by  a  dragon 
but  was  snatched  away  into  the  heavens.  The  child-murder  of  Herod 
19  an  anthropomorphism  of  this  "  primitive  "  idea.  The  lamb  means  the 
son.  (See  Brugsch:  "Die  Adonisklage  und  das  LinosHed,"  Berlin 
1852.)  Dieterich  (Abraxas:  "  Studien  zur  Religionsgeschichte  des 
spateren  Altertums,"  1891)  refers  for  an  explanation  of  this  passage  to 
the  myth  of  Apollo  and  Python,  which  he  reproduces  as  follows:  "To 
Python,  the  son  of  earth,  the  great  dragon,  it  was  prophesied  that  the 
son  of  Leto  would  kill  him;  Leto  was  pregnant  by  Zeus:  but  Hera 
brought  it  about  that  she  could  give  birth  only  there  'where  the  sun  did 
not  shine.  When  Python  saw  that  Leto  was  pregnant,  he  began  to  pursue 
her  in  order  to  kill  her,  but  Boreas  brought  Leto  to  Poseidon.  The 
latter  brought  her  to  Ortygia  and  covered  the  island  with  the  waves  of 
the  sea.  When  Python  did  not  find  Leto,  he  returned  to  Parnassus. 
Leto  brought  forth  upon  the  island  thrown  up  by  Poseidon.  The  fourth 
day  after  the  birth,  Apollo  took  revenge  and  killed  the  P5^hon.  The 
birth  upon  the  hidden  island  belongs  to  the  motive  of  the  "  night  journey 
on  the  sea."  The  typical  character  of  the  "  island  phantasy "  has  for 
the  first  time  been  correctly  perceived  by  Riklin  (1912  Jahrbuch,  Vol.  II, 
p.  246).  A  beautiful  parallel  for  this  is  to  be  found,  together  with  the 
necessary  incestuous  phantasy  material,  in  H.  de  Vere  Stacpool:  "The 
Blue  Lagoon."     A  parallel  to  "  Paul  and  Virginia." 

*' Revelation  xxi:2:  "And  the  holy  city,  the  new  Jerusalem,  I  saw 
coming  down  from  the  heaven  of  God,  prepared  as  a  bride  adorned  for 
her  bridegroom." 

*•  The  legend  of  Saktideva,  in  Somadeva  Bhatta,  relates  that  the  hero, 
after  he  had  escaped  from  being  devoured  by  a  huge  fish  (terrible 
mother),  finally  sees  the  golden  city  and  marries  his  beloved  princess 
(Frobenius,  p.  175). 

*'  In  the  Apocryphal  acts  of  St.  Thomas  (2nd  century)  the  church  is 
taken  to  be  the  virgin  mother-spouse  of  Christ.  In  an  invocation  of  the 
apostle,  it  is  said: 

Come,  holy  name  of  Christ,  thou  who  art  above  all  names. 

Come,  power  of  the  highest  and  greatest  mercy, 

Come,  dispenser  of  the  greatest  blessings. 

Come,  gracious  mother. 

Come,  economy  of  the  masculine. 

Come,  woman,  thou  who  disclosest  the  hidden  mysteries  .   .  . 
In  another  invocation  it  is  said: 

Come,  greatest  mercy. 

Come,  spouse    (literally  community)    of  the  male. 

Come,  woman,  thou  who  knowest  the  mystery  of  the  elect, 

Come,  woman,  thou  who  showest  the  hidden  things 

And  who   revealest  the  unspeakable  things,  holy 

Dove,  thou  who  bringest  forth  the  twin  nestliag, 

Come,  mysterious  mother,  etc. 


pp.  233-306]    SYMBOLISM  OF  THE  MOTHER  527 

F.  C.  Conybeare:  "Die  jungfrauliche  Kirche  und  die  jungfrauliche 
Mutter."  Archiv  fiir  Religionsivissenschaft,  IX,  77.  The  connection  of 
the  church  with  the  mother  is  not  to  be  doubted,  also  the  conception 
of  the  mother  as  spouse.  The  virgin  is  necessarily  introduced  to  hide 
the  incest  idea.  The  "  community  with  the  male  "  points  to  the  motive 
of  the  continuous  cohabitation.  The  "  twin  nestlings "  refer  to  the  old 
legend,  that  Jesus  and  Thomas  were  twins.  It  plainly  expresses  the 
motive  of  the  Dioscuri.  Therefore,  doubting  Thomas  had  to  place  his 
finger  in  the  wound  at  the  side.  Zinzendorf  has  correctly  perceived  the 
sexual  significance  of  this  symbol  that  hints  at  the  androgynous  nature 
of  the  primitive  being  (the  libido).  Compare  the  Persian  legend  of 
the  twin  trees  Meschia  and  Mechiane,  as  well  as  the  motive  of  the 
Dioscuri  and  the  motive  of  cohabitation. 

**  Compare  Freud:  "Dream  Interpretation."  Also  Abraham:  "Dreams 
and  Myths,"  pp.  22  f . 

^"Isaiah  xlviii:i.  "Hear  ye  this,  O  house  of  Jacob,  which  are  called 
by  the  name  of  Israel  and  are  come  forth  out  of  the  waters  of  Judah." 

'Wirth:  "  Aus  orientalischen  Chroniken." — The  Greek  "Materia"  is 
vIti,  which  means  wood  and  forest;  it  really  means  moist,  from  the 
Indo-Germanic  root  su  in  vu,  "to  make  wet,  to  have  it  rain";  verd^ 
=  rain;  Iranian  jw/A  =  sap,  fruit,  birth;  Sanscrit  jura  =  brandy;  sutus  ^= 
pregnancy;  sute,  suyate=zt.o  generate;  sutas^=  son;  juraj  =  soma;  wdf 
=  son;   (Sanscrit,  sunus;  gothic,  sunus). 

^KolfiTjfia means  cohabitation,  KOLfirjT^piov  bedchamber,  hence  coemeterium 
=:  cemetery,  enclosed  fenced  place. 

*Nork:  "  Realworterbuch." 

'  In  a  myth  of  Celebes,  a  dove  maiden  who  was  caught  in  the 
manner  of  the  swan  maiden  myth,  was  called  Utahagi  after  a  white 
hair  which  grew  on  its  crown  and  in  which  there  was  magic  strength. 
Frobenius,  p.  307. 

^*  Referring  to  the  phallic  symbolism  of  the  finger,  see  the  remarks 
about  the  Dactyli,  Part  II,  Chap.  I:  I  mention  at  this  place  the  following 
from  a  Bakairi  myth:  "  Nimagakaniro  devoured  two  finger  bones,  many 
of  which  were  in  the  house,  because  Oka  used  them  for  his  arrow  heads 
and  killed  many  Bakairi  whose  flesh  he  ate.  The  woman  became  preg- 
nant from  the  finger  bone  and  only  from  this,  not  from  Oka"  (quoted 
by  Frobenius,  p.  236). 

**  Further  proof  for  this  in  Prellwitz:  "  Griechische  Etymologic." 

^'Siecke:  "Der  Gott  Rudra  in  Rigveda":  Archiv  fiir  Religionsiuissen- 
schaft,  Vol.  I,  p.  237. 

*'  The  fig  tree  is  the  phallic  tree.  It  is  noteworthy  that  Dionysus 
planted  a  fig  tree  at  the  entrance  to  Hades,  just  as  "  Phalli  "  are  placed 
on  graves.  The  Cyprus  tree  consecrated  to  Aphrodite  grew  to  be  entirely 
a  token  of  death,  because  it  was  placed  at  the  door  of  the  house  of 
death. 

**  Therefore  the  tree  at  times  is  also  a  representation  of  the  sun.  A 
Russian  riddle  related  to  me  by  Dr.  Van  Ophuijsen  reads:  "What  is 
the  tree   which    stands   in   the   middle   of   the   village    and   is   visible    in 


528  SYMBOLISM  OF  THE  MOTHER  [pp.    233-306 

every  cottage  ?  "    Answer:  "The  sun  and  its  light."    A  Norwegian  riddle 
reads: 

"  A  tree  stands  on  the  mountain  of  Billings, 

It  bends  over  a  lake, 

Its  branches  shine  like  gold: 

You  won't  guess  that  to-day. 
In   the   evening   the   daughter   of    the    sun   collected    the   golden 
branches,  which  had  been  broken  from  the  wonderful  oak. 

Bitterly  weeps  the  little  sun 

In  the  apple  orchard. 

From  the  apple  tree  has  fallen 

The  golden  apple, 

Do  not  weep,  little  sun, 

God  will  make  another 

Of  gold,  of  bronze,  of  silver." 
The  picking  of  the  apple  from  the  paradise  tree  may  be  compared  with 
the   fire   theft,   the   drawing   back   of  the   libido   from   the   mother.      (See 
the    explanations    which    follow    concerning    the    specific    deed    of    the 
hero.) 

"  The  relation  of  the  son  to  the  mother  was  the  psychologic  basis  of 
many  religions.  In  the  Christian  legend  the  relation  of  the  son  to  the 
mother  is  extraordinarily  clear.  Robertson  ("Evangelical  Myths")  has 
hit  upon  the  relation  of  Christ  to  the  Marys,  and  he  conjectures  that 
this  relation  probably  refers  to  an  old  myth  "  where  a  god  of  Palestine, 
perhaps  of  the  name  Joshua,  appears  in  the  changing  relation  of  lover 
and  son  towards  a  mythical  Mary.  This  is  a  natural  process  in  the 
oldest  theosophy  and  one  which  appears  with  variations  in  the  myths  of 
Mithra,  Adonis,  Attis,  Osiris  and  Dionysus,  all  of  whom  were  brought 
into  relation  (or  combination)  with  mother  goddesses  and  who  appear 
either  as  a  consort  or  a  feminine  eidolon  in  so  far  as  the  mothers  and 
consorts  were  identified  as  occasion  offered." 

""  Rank  has  pointed  out  a  beautiful  example  of  this  in  the  myth  of 
the  swan  maiden.  "Die  Lohengrinsage:  Schriften  zur  angewandten 
Seelenkunde." 

^*  Muther  ("  Geschichte  der  Malerei,"  Vol.  II)  says  in  the  chapter: 
"The  First  Spanish  Classic":  "  Tieck  once  wrote:  Sexuality  is  the  great 
mystery  of  our  being.  Sensuality  is  the  first  moving  wheel  in  our 
machinery.  It  stirs  our  being  and  makes  it  joyous  and  living.  Every- 
thing we  dream  of  as  beautiful  and  noble  is  included  here.  Sexuality 
and  sensuousness  are  the  spirit  of  music,  of  painting  and  of  all  art.  All 
wishes  of  mankind  rotate  around  this  center  like  moths  around  a 
burning  light.  The  sense  of  beauty  and  the  feeling  for  art  are  only 
other  expressions  of  it.  They  signify  nothing  more  than  the  impulse 
of  mankind  towards  expression.  I  consider  devoutness  itself  as  a  diverted 
channel  of  the  sexual  desire."  Here  It  is  openly  declared  that  one  should 
never  forget  when  judging  the  ancient  ecclesiastic  art  that  the  effort 
to  efface  the  boundaries  between  earthly  and  divine  love,  to  blend  them 
into  each  other  imperceptibly,  has  always  been  the  guiding  thought,  the 
strongest  factor  in  the  propaganda  of  the  Catholic  church. 

'^  We  will  not  discuss  here  the  reasons  for  the  strength  of  the  phantasy. 
But  it  does  not  seem  difficult  to  me  to  imagine  what  sort  of  powers  are 
hidden  behind  the  above  formula. 


pp.  233-306]   SYMBOLISM  OF  THE  MOTHER  529 

'^  Lactantius  says:  "When  all  know  that  it  is  customary  for  certain 
animals  to  conceive  through  wind  and  breath  of  air,  why  should  any  one 
consider  it  miraculous  for  a  virgin  to  be  impregnated  by  the  spirit  of 
God?"     Robertson:  "  Evang.  Myth.,"  p.  31. 

"*  Therefore  the  strong  emphasis  upon  affiliation  in  the  New  Testament. 

*' The  mystic  feelings  of  the  nearness  of  God;  the  so-called  personal 
inner  experience. 

*°  The  sexual  mawkishness  is  everywhere  apparent  in  the  lamb  sym- 
bolism and  the  spiritual  love-songs  to  Jesus,  the  bridegroom  of  the  soul. 

"  Usener:  "  Der  heilige  Tychon,"  1907. 

''Compare  W.  P.  Knight:  "Worship  of  Priapus." 

"  Or  in  the  compensating  organizations,  which  appear  in  the  place  of 
religion. 

*"  The  condition  was  undoubtedly  ideal  for  early  times,  where  man- 
kind was  more  infantile  in  general:  and  it  still  is  ideal  for  that  part 
of  humanity  which  is  infantile;  how  large  is  that  part! 

**  Compare  Freud:  Jahrbuch,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  i. 

**  Here  it  is  not  to  be  forgotten  we  are  moving  entirely  in  the  territory 
of  psychology,  which  in  no  way  is  allied  to  transcendentalism,  either  in 
positive  or  negative  relation.  It  is  a  question  here  of  a  relentless  fulfil- 
ment of  the  standpoint  of  the  theory  of  cognition,  established  by  Kant,  not 
merely  for  the  theory,  but,  what  is  more  important,  for  the  practice.  One 
should  avoid  playing  with  the  infantile  image  of  the  world,  because  all 
this  tends  only  to  separate  man  from  his  essential  and  highest  ethical 
goal,  moral  autonomy.  The  religious  symbol  should  be  retained  after 
the  inevitable  obliteration  of  certain  antiquated  fragments,  as  postulate 
or  as  transcendent  theory,  and  also  as  taught  in  precepts,  but  is  to  be 
filled  with  new  meaning  according  to  the  demand  of  the '  culture  of 
the  present  day.  But  this  theory  must  not  become  for  the  "adult"  a 
positive  creed,  an  illusion,  which  causes  reality  to  appear  to  him  in  a 
false  light.  Just  as  man  is  a  dual  being,  having  an  intellectual  and 
an  animal  nature,  so  does  he  appear  to  need  two  forms  of  reality,  the 
reality  of  culture,  that  is,  the  symbolic  transcendent  theory,  and  the 
reality  of  nature  which  corresponds  to  our  conception  of  the  "  true 
reality."  In  the  same  measure  that  the  true  reality  is  merely  a  figurative 
interpretation  of  the  appreciation  of  reality,  the  religious  symbolic  theory 
is  merely  a  figurative  interpretation  of  certain  endopsychic  apperceptions. 
But  one  very  essential  difference  is  that  a  transcendental  support,  inde- 
pendent in  duration  and  condition,  is  assured  to  the  transubjective  reality 
through  the  best  conceivable  guarantees,  while  for  the  psychologic  phe- 
nomena a  transcendental  support  of  subjective  limitation  and  weakness 
must  be  recognized  as  a  result  of  compelling  empirical  data.  Therefore 
true  reality  is  one  that  is  relatively  universally  valid;  the  psychologic 
reality,  on  the  contrary,  is  merely  a  functional  phenomenon  contained 
in  an  epoch  of  human  civilization.  Thus  does  it  appear  to-day  from 
the  best  informed  empirical  standpoint.  If,  however,  the  psychologic 
were  divested  of  its  character  of  a  biologic  epiphenomenon  in  a  manner 
neither  known  nor  expected  by  me,  and  thereby  was  given  the  place  of 
a  physical  entity,  then  the  psychologic  reality  would  be  resolved  into 
the  true  reality;   or  much  more,  it  would  be  reversed,  because  then  the 


530  SYMBOLISM  OF  THE  MOTHER  [pp.    233-306 

psychologic  would  lay  claim  to  a  greater  worth,  for  the  ultimate  theory, 
because  of  its  directness. 

"  "  De  Isid.  et  Osir." 

"Erman:  "Aegypten,"  p.  360. 

*'  Here  I  must  again  recall  that  I  give  to  the  word  "  incest "  more  sig- 
nificance than  properly  belongs  to  the  term.  Just  as  libido  is  the  onward 
driving  force,  so  incest  is  in  some  manner  the  backward  urge  into  child- 
hood. For  the  child,  it  cannot  be  spoken  of  as  incest.  Only  for  the  adult 
who  possesses  a  completely  formed  sexuality  does  the  backward  urge  be- 
come incest,  because  he  is  no  longer  a  child  but  possesses  a  sexuality 
which  cannot  be  permitted  a  regressive  application. 

*' Compare   Frobenius:  "Das  Zeitalter  des   Sonnengottes." 

*'  Compare  the  "  nightmare  legends  "  in  which  the  mare  is  a  beautiful 
woman. 

*' This  recalls  the  phallic  columns  placed  in  the  temples  of  Astarte. 
In  fact,  according  to  one  version,  the  wife  of  the  king  was  named 
Astarte.  This  symbol  brings  to  mind  the  crosses,  fittingly  called  iyKST^nia 
(pregnant  crosses),  which  conceal  a  secret  reliquary. 

■"  Spielrein  {Jahrbuch,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  358)  points  out  numerous  indica- 
tions of  the  motive  of  dismemberment  in  a  demented  patient.  Fragments 
of  the  most  varied  things  and  materials  were  "cooked"  or  "burnt." 
"The  ash  can  become  man."  The  patient  saw  children  dismembered 
in  glass  coffins.  In  addition,  the  above-mentioned  "washing,"  "cleaning," 
"cooking"  and  "burning"  has,  besides  the  coitus  motive,  also  the 
pregnancy  motive;  the  latter  probably  in  a  predominating  measure. 

'"  Later  offshoots  of  this  primitive  theory  of  the  origin  of  children  are 
contained  in  the  doctrines  of  Karma,  and  the  conception  of  the  Mendelian 
theory  of  heredity  is  not  far  off.  One  only  has  to  realize  that  all  apper- 
ceptions are  subjectively  conditioned. 

'*  Demeter  assembled  the  limbs  of  the  dismembered  Dionysus  and 
from  them  produced  the  god  anew. 

'^Compare  Diodorus:  III,  62. 

"'  Yet  to  be  added  is  the  fact  that  the  cynocephalic  Anubis  as  the 
restorer  of  the  corpse  of  Osiris  (also  genius  of  the  dog  star)  had  a  com- 
pensatory significance.  In  this  significance  he  appears  upon  many  sar- 
cophagi. The  dog  is  also  a  regular  companion  of  the  healing  Asclepius. 
The  following  quotation  from  Petronius  best  supports  the  Creuzer 
hypothesis  ("  Sat.,"  c.  71)  :  "  Valde  te  rogo,  ut  secundum  pedes  statuae  meae 
catellam  pingas — ut  mihi  contingat  tuo  beneficio  post  mortem  vivere  "  (I 
beseech  you  instantly  to  fasten  beside  the  feet  of  my  statue  a  dog,  so 
that  because  of  your  beneficence  I  may  attain  to  life  after  death).  See 
Nork:  Ibid.,  about  dog.) 

Moreover,  the  relation  of  the  dog  to  the  dog-headed  Hecate,  the  goddess 
of  the  underworld,  hints  at  its  being  the  symbol  of  rebirth.  She  received 
as  Canicula  a  sacrificial  dog  to  keep  away  the  pest.  Her  close  relation 
to  Artemis  as  goddess  of  the  moon  permits  her  opposition  to  fertility 
to  be  glimpsed.  Hecate  is  also  the  first  to  bring  to  Demeter  the  news 
of  her  stolen  child  (the  role  of  Anubis!).  Also  the  goddess  of  birth 
Ilithyia  received  sacrifices  of  dogs,  and  Hecate  herself  is,  on  occasions, 
goddess  of  marriage  and  birth. 


pp.  233-306]   SYMBOLISM  OF  THE  MOTHER  531 

'^  Frobenius  (Ibid.,  p.  393)  observes  that  frequently  the  gods  of  fire 
(sun-heroes)  lack  a  member.  He  gives  the  following  parallel:  "Just 
as  the  god  wrenches  out  an  arm  from  the  ogre  (giant),  so  does  Odysseus 
pluck  out  the  eye  of  the  noble  Polyphemus,  whereupon  the  sun  creeps  up 
mysteriously  into  the  sky.  Might  the  fire-making,  twisting  and  wrenching 
out  of  the  arm  be  connected.?"  This  question  is  by  this  clearly  illumined 
if  we  assume,  corresponding  to  the  train  of  thought  of  the  ancients,  that 
the  wrenching  out  of  the  arm  is  really  a  castration.  (The  symbol  of 
the  robbery  of  the  force  of  life.)  It  is  an  act  corresponding  to  the  Attis 
castration  because  of  the  mother.  From  this  renunciation,  which  is  really 
a  symbolic  mother  incest,  arises  the  discovery  of  fire,  as  previously  we 
have  already  suspected.  Moreover,  mention  must  be  made  of  the  fact 
that  to  wrench  out  an  arm,  means  first  of  all  merely  "overpowering," 
and  on  that  account  can  happen  to  the  hero  as  well  as  to  his  opponent. 
(Compare,  for  examples,  Frobenius:  Ibid.,  pp.  112,  395.) 

Compare  especially  the  description  of  the  cup  of  Thebes. 

Professor  Freud  has  expressed  in  a  personal  discussion  the  idea  that 
a  further  determinate  for  the  motive  of  the  dissimilar  brothers  is  to  be 
found  in  the  elementary  observance  towards  birth  and  the  after-birth. 
It  is  an  exotic  custom  to  treat  the  placenta  as  a  child! 

^^Brugsch:  "Religion  und  Mythologie  der  alten  Aegypter,"  p.  354. 

"Ibid.,  p.  310. 

""  In  the  conception  of  Atman  there  is  a  certain  fluid  quality  in  so 
far  as  he  really  can  be  identified  with  Purusha  of  the  Rigveda.  "  Purusha 
covers  all  the  places  of  the  earth,  flowing  about  it  ten  fingers  high." 

'"Brugsch:  Ibid.,  p.  112. 

'^  In  Thebes,  where  the  chief  god  is  Chnum,  the  latter  represents  the 
breath  of  the  wind  in  his  cosmic  component,  from  which  later  on  "  the 
spirit  of  God  floating  over  the  waters  "  has  developed ;  the  primitive  idea 
of  the  cosmic  parents,  who  lie  pressed  together  until  the  son  separates 
them.     (Compare  the  symbolism  of  Atman  above.) 

'^Brugsch:  Ibid.,  p.  128. 

*'  Servian  song  from  Grimm's  "  Mythology,"  II,  p.  544. 

**  Frobenius:  Ibid. 

"  Compare  the  birth  of  the  Germanic  Aschanes,  where  rock,  tree  and 
water  are  present  at  the  scene  of  birth.  Chidher  too  was  found  sitting 
on  the  earth,  the  ground  around  covered  with  flowers. 

°°  Most  singularly  even  in  this  quotation,  V.  288,  the  description  is 
found  of  Sleep  sitting  high  up  in  a  pine  tree.  "  There  he  sat  surrounded 
by  branches  covered  with  thorny  leaves,  like  the  singing  bird,  who  by 
night  flutters  through  the  mountains."  It  appears  as  if  the  motive  belongs 
to  a  hierosgamos.  Compare  also  the  magic  net  with  which  Hephaestos 
enfolds  Ares  and  Aphrodite  "  in  flagranti  "  and  kept  them  for  the  sport 
of  the  gods. 

"  The  rite  of  enchaining  the  statues  of  Hercules  and  the  Tyrian  Mel- 
karth  is  related  to  this  also.  The  Cabiri  too  were  wrapt  in  coverings. 
Creuzer:  "  Symbolik,"  II,  350. 

^'Fick:  "  Indogermanisches  Worterbuch,"   I,  p.  132. 


532  SYMBOLISM  OF  THE  MOTHER  [pp.    233-306 

'*  Compare  the  "  resounding  sun." 

'"'  The  motive  of  the  "  striking  rocks "  belongs  also  to  the  motive  of 
devouring  (Frobenius:  Ibid.,  p.  405).  The  hero  in  his  ship  must  pass 
between  two  rocks  which  strike  together.  (Similar  to  the  biting  door, 
to  the  tree  trunk  which  snaps  together.)  In  the  passage,  generally  the 
tail  of  the  bird  is  pinched  off  (or  the  "poop"  of  the  ship,  etc.);  the 
castration  motive  is  once  more  clearly  revealed  here,  for  the  castration 
takes  the  place  of  mother  incest.  The  castration  is  a  substitution  for 
coitus.  Scheffel  employs  this  idea  in  his  well-known  poem:  "A  herring 
loved  an  oyster,  etc."  The  poem  ends  with  the  oyster  biting  off  the 
herring's  head  for  a  kiss.  The  doves  which  bring  Zeus  ambrosia  have 
also  to  pass  through  the  rocks  which  strike  together.  The  "doves" 
bring  the  food  of  immortality  to  Zeus  by  means  of  incest  (entrance  into 
the  mother)  very  similar  to  Freya's  apples  (breasts).  Frobenius  also 
mentions  the  rocks  or  caves  which  open  only  at  a  magic  word  and  are 
very  closely  connected  with  the  rocks  which  strike  together.  Most 
illuminating  in  this  respect  is  a  South  African  myth  (Frobenius,  p.  407): 
"One  must  call  the  rock  by  name  and  cry  loudly:  Rock  Utunjambili, 
open,  so  that  I  may  enter."  But  the  rock  answers  when  it  will  not  open 
to  the  call.  "The  rock  will  not  open  to  children,  it  will  open  to  the 
swallows  which  fly  in  the  air!  "  The  remarkable  thing  is,  that  no  human 
power  can  open  the  rock,  only  a  formula  has  that  power — or  a  bird. 
This  wording  merely  says  that  the  opening  of  the  rock  is  an  undertaking 
which  cannot  really  be  accomplished,  but  which  one  wishes  to  accom- 
plish. 

(In  Middle  High  German,  to  wish  is  really  "to  have  the  power  to 
create  something  extraordinary.")  When  a  man  dies,  then  only  the 
wish  that  he  might  live*  remains,  an  unfulfilled  wish,  a  fluttering  wish, 
wherefore  souls  are  birds.  The  soul  is  wholly  only  libido,  as  is  illus- 
trated in  many  parts  of  this  work;  it  is  "to  wish."  Thus  the  helpful 
bird,  who  assists  the  hero  in  the  whale  to  come  again  into  the  light, 
who  opens  the  rocks,  is  the  wish  for  rebirth.  (For  the  bird  as 
a  wish,  see  the  beautiful  painting  by  Thoma,  where  the  youth  longingly 
stretches  out  his  arms  to  the  birds  who  pass  over  his  head.) 

"Grimm:  "Mythology,"  I,  p.  474. 

"  In  Athens  there  was  a  family  of  Alyeipdrofioc  =:  hewn  from  poplars. 

"Hermann:  "  Nordische  Mythologie,"  p.  589. 

'*  Javanese  tribes  commonly  set  up  their  images  of  God  in  an  artificial 
cavity  of  a  tree.  This  fits  in  with  the  "  little  hole  "  phantasy  of  Zinzen- 
dorf  and  his  sect.  See  Pfister:  "  Frommigkeit  des  Graf  en  von  Zinzendorf." 
In  a  Persian  myth,  the  white  Haoma  is  a  divine  tree,  growing  in  the 
lake  Vourukasha,  the  fish  Khar-mahi  circles  protectingly  around  it  and 
defends  it  against  the  toad  Ahriman.  It  gives  eternal  life,  children  to 
women,  husbands  to  girls  and  horses  to  men.  In  the  Minokhired  the  tree 
is  called  "the  preparer  of  the  corpse"  (Spiegel:  "  Eran.  Altertumskunde," 
II,  115). 

'°  Ship  of  the  sun,  which  accompanies  the  sun  and  the  soul  over  the 
sea  of  death  to  the  rising. 

'^^Brugsch:  Ibid.,  p.  177. 

"  Similarly  Isaiah  H:  i:  ".  .  .  look  unto  the  rock  whence  ye  are  hewn, 
and  to  the  hole  of  the  pit  whence  ye  are  digged."     Further  proof  is  found 


pp.  233-306]   SYMBOLISM  OF  THE  MOTHER  533 

in  A.  von  Lowis  of  Menar:  "  Nordkaukasische  Steingeburtssagen,'"  Arc/iiv 
fiir  Reliffionsivissenschaff,  XIII,  p.  509. 

"Grimm:  "Mythology,"  I,  p.  474. 

''  "  Das  Kreuz  Christi.  Rel.-hist.-kirchl.-archaeol.  Untersuchungen," 
1875- 

*"  The  legend  of  Seth  is  found  in  Jubinal:  "  Mysteres  inedits  du  XV. 
siecle,"  Part  II,  p.  16.     Quoted  from  Zockler:  Ibid.,  p.  241. 

"  The  guilt  is  as  always,  whenever  possible,  thrown  upon  the  mother. 
The  Germanic  sacred  trees  are  also  under  the  law  of  an  absolute  taboo: 
no  leaf  may  be  taken  from  them,  and  nothing  may  be  picked  from  the 
ground  upon  which  their  shadows  fall. 

'^According  to  the  German  legend  (Grimm:  Vol.  II,  p.  809),  the 
redeeming  hero  will  be  born  when  the  tree,  which  now  grows  as  a  weak 
shoot  from  the  wall,  has  become  large,  and  when  from  its  wood  the 
cradle  can  be  made  in  which  the  hero  can  be  rocked.  The  formula 
reads:  "A  linden  shall  be  planted,  which  shall  bear  on  high  two  boughs 
from  the  wood  of  which  a  "  poie  "  shall  be  made;  the  child  who  will 
be  the  first  to  lie  therein  is  destined  to  be  taken  by  the  sword  from  life 
to  death,  and  then  salvation  will  enter  in."  In  the  Germanic  legends, 
the  appearance  of  a  future  event  is  connected  most  remarkably  with  a 
budding  tree.  Compare  with  this  the  designation  of  Christ  as  a  "  branch  " 
or  a  "  rod." 

'^Herein  the  motive  of  the  "helpful  bird"  is  apparent.  Angels  are 
really  birds.  Compare  the  bird  clothing  of  the  souls  of  the  underworld, 
"  soul  birds."  In  the  sacrificium  Mithriacum  the  messenger  of  the  gods 
(the  "  angel  ")  is  a  raven,  the  winged  Hermes,  etc. 

**  See  Frobenius:  Ibid. 

*' The  close  connection  between  6eX<j>ig  :=  Dolphin  and  6el(pvq  =  uterus  is 
emphasized.  In  Delphi  there  is  the  cavity  in  the  earth  and  the  Tripod 
6E'k(pivLg ^  a  delphic  table  with  three  feet  in  the  form  of  a  Dolphin). 
See  in  the  last  chapter  Melicertes  upon  the  Dolphin  and  the  fiery 
sacrifice  of  Melkarth. 

'*  See  the  comprehensive  collection  of  Jones.     On  the  nightmare. 

*'Riklin:  "Wish  Fulfilment  and  Symbolism  in  Fairy  Tales." 

**Laistner:  "Das  Ratsel  der  Sphinx." 

"Freud:  Jahrbuch,  Vol.  I,  June:  "Mental  Conflicts  in  Children":  Col- 
lected Papers  on  Analytical  Psychology. 

*" "  Epistola  de  ara  ad  Noviomagum  reperta,"  p.  25.  Quoted  by 
Grimm:  "Mythology,"  Vol.  II. 

'*  Grimm:  Ibid.,  Vol.  II,  p.  1041. 

"  Compare  with  that  the  horses  whose  tread  causes  springs  to  flow. 

*^  Compare  Herrmann:  "  Nord.  Myth.,"  p.  64,  and  Fick:  "  Vergleich. 
Worterb.  d.  indogerm.  Sprache,"  Vol.  I. 

**  Parallel  is  the  mantic  significance  of  the  delphic  chasm,  Mimir's 
brook,  etc.    "  Abyss  of  Wisdom,"  see  last  chapter.    Hippolytos,  with  whom 


534  SYMBOLISM  OF  THE  MOTHER  [pp.    233-306 

his   stepmother  was   enamoured,   was  placed   after   death  with  the   wise 
nymph,  Egeria. 

"Example  in  Bertschinger :  Jahrbuch,  Vol.  Ill,  Part  I. 

"Compare  the  exotic  myths  given  by  Frobenius  ("Zeitalter  des  Son- 
nengottes"),  where  the  belly  of  the  whale  is  clearly  the  land  of  death. 

"  One  of  the  fixed  peculiarities  of  the  Mar  is  that  he  can  only  get 
out  of  the  hole,  through  which  he  came  in.  This  motive  belongs  evi- 
dently as  the  projected  wish  motive  in  the  rebirth  myth. 

"'According  to  Gressmann:  "  Altorient.  Text,  und  Bild.,"  Vol.  I,  p.  4. 

**  Abyss  of  wisdom,  book  of  wisdom,  source  of  phantasies.     See  below. 

""Cleavage  of  the  mother,  see  Kalneus;  also  rift,  chasm  =:  division 
of  the  earth,  and  so  on. 

*"*  "  Schopfung  und  Chaos."    Gottingen,  1895,  p.  30. 

"'Brugsch:  Ibid.,  p.  161. 

*"'  In  a  Pyramid  text,  which  depicts  the  battle  of  the  dead  Pharaoh 
for  the  dominance  of  heaven,  it  reads:  Heaven  weeps,  the  stars  tremble, 
the  guards  of  the  gods  tremble  and  their  servants  flee,  when  they  see 
the  king  rise  as  a  spirit,  as  a  god,  who  lives  upon  his  fathers  and 
conquers  his  mothers."    Cited  by  Dieterich:  "  Mithrasliturgy,"  p.  100. 

"-  Book  II,  p.  61. 

^''By  Ares,  the  Egyptian  Typhon  is  probably  meant. 

*°°  In  the  Polynesian  Maui  myth,  the  act  of  the  sun-hero  is  very  plain: 
he  robs  his  mother  of  her  girdle.  The  robbery  of  the  veil  in  myths  of 
the  type  of  the  swan  maiden  has  the  same  significance.  In  an  African 
myth  of  Joruba,  the  sun-hero  simply  ravishes  his  mother   (Frobenius). 

*"' The  previously  mentioned  myth  of  Halirrhotios,  who  destroyed 
himself  when  he  wished  to  cut  down  the  holy  tree  of  Athens,  the  Moria, 
contains  the  same  psychology,  also  the  priestly  castration  (Attis  castra- 
tion) in  the  service  of  the  great  mother.  The  ascetic  self-torture  in 
Christianity  has  its  origin,  as  is  self-evident,  in  these  sources  because  the 
Christian  form  of  symbol  means  a  very  intensive  regression  to  the 
mother  incest. 

*"*  The  tearing  off  from  the  tree  of  life  is  just  this  sin. 

"'Compare  Kuhn:  "  Herabkunft  des  Feuers." 

""Nork:  "  Worterbuch  s.  v.  Mistel." 

***  Therefore  in  England  mistletoe  boughs  were  hung  up  at  Christmas. 
Mistletoe  as  rod  of  life.  Compare  Aigremont:  "  Volkserotik  und 
Pflanzenwelt." 

*"  Just  as  the  tree  has  the  phallic  nature  as  well  as  a  maternal  sig- 
nificance, so  in  myths  the  demonic  old  woman  (she  may  be  favorable 
or  malicious)  often  has  phallic  attributes,  for  example,  a  long  toe,  a 
long  tooth,  long  lips,  long  fingers,  pendulous  breasts,  large  hands,  feet, 
and  so  on.  This  mixture  of  male  and  female  motive  has  reference  to 
the  fact  that  the  old  woman  is  a  libido  symbol  like  the  tree,  generally 
determined   as  maternal.     The  bisexuality  of  the  libido   is   expressed   in 


i 


pp.  233-306]   SYMBOLISM  OF  THE  MOTHER  535 

its  clearest  form  in  the  idea  of  the  three  witches,  who  collectively  pos- 
sessed but  one  eye  and  one  tooth.  This  idea  is  directly  parallel  to  the 
dream  of  a  patient,  who  represented  her  libido  as  twins,  one  of  which 
is  a  box,  the  other  a  bottle-like  object,  for  eye  and  tooth  represent  male 
and  female  genitals.  Relative  to  eye  in  this  connection,  see  especially 
the  Egyptian  myths:  referring  to  tooth,  it  is  to  be  observed  that  Adonis 
(fecundity)  died  by  a  boar's  tooth,  like  Siegfried  by  Hagen's  spear: 
compare  with  this  the  Veronese  Priapus,  whose  phallus  was  bitten  by  a 
snake.     Tooth  in  this  sense,  like  the  snake,  is  a  "  negative  "  phallus. 

^''Compare  Grimm:  Vol.  II,  Chap,  iv,  p.  802.  The  same  motive  in 
another  application  is  found  in  a  Low-Saxon  legend:  Once  a  young  ash 
tree  grew  unnoticed  in  the  wood.  Each  New  Year's  Eve  a  white  knight 
upon  a  white  horse  rides  up  to  cut  down  the  young  shoot.  At  the  same 
time  a  black  knight  arrives  and  engages  him  in  combat.  After  a  lengthy 
conflict,  the  white  knight  succeeds  in  overcoming  the  black  knight  and 
the  white  knight  cuts  down  the  young  tree.  But  sometime  the  white 
knight  will  be  unsuccessful,  then  the  ash  will  grow,  and  when  it  becomes 
large  enough  to  allow  a  horse  to  be  tied  under  it,  then  a  powerful  king 
will  come  and  a  tremendous  battle  will  occur   (destruction  of  the  world). 

"*  Chantepie  de  la  Saussaye:  "Lehrbuch  der  Religionsgeschichte,"  Vol. 
II,  p.  185. 

*"  Further  examples  in  Frobenius:  Ibid.,  passim. 

*^' See  Jensen:  "  Gilgameshepos." 

"^  In  a  Schlesian  passionale  of  the  fifteenth  centary  Christ  dies  on  the 
same  tree  which  was  connected  with  Adam's  sin.  Cited  from  Zockler: 
Ibid.,  p.  241. 

*^*  For  example,  animal  skins  were  hung  on  the  sacrificial  trees  and 
afterwards  spears  were  thrown  at  them. 

»»» <<  Geschichte  der  amerikanischen  Urreligionen,"  p.  498. 

""Stephens:  "Central  America"    (cited  by  Miiller:  Ibid.,  p.  498). 

"'Zockler:  "Das  Kreuz  Christi,"  p.  34. 

*^^  H.  H.  Bancroft:  "Native  Races  of  the  Pacific  States  of  North 
America,"  II,  506.     (Cited  by  Robertson:  "  Evang.  Myths,"  p.  139.) 

'"Rossellini:  "  Monumenti  dell'  Egitto,  etc."  Tom.  3.  Tav.  23. 
(Cited  by  Robertson:  Ibid.,  p.  142. 

'^'' Zockler:  Ibid.,  p.  7.  In  the  representation  of  the  birth  of  a  king 
in  Luxor  one  sees  the  following:  The  logos  and  messenger  of  the  gods, 
the  bird-headed  Thoth,  makes  known  to  the  maiden  Queen  Mautmes 
that  she  is  to  give  birth  to  a  son.  In  the  following  scene,  Kneph  and 
Athor  hold  the  Crux  ansata  to  her  mouth  so  that  she  may  be  impreg- 
nated by  this  in  a  spiritual  (symbolic)  manner.  Sharp:  "Egyptian 
Mythology,"  p.  18.     (Cited  by  Robertson:  "Evangelical  Myths,"  p.  43.) 

'^' The  statues  of  the  phallic  Hermes  used  as  boundary  stones  were 
often  in  the  form  of  a  cross  with  the  head  pointed  (W.  Payne  Knight: 
"  V^orship  of  Priapus,"  p.  30).  In  Old  English  the  cross  is  called 
rod. 

'^'Robertson  (Ibid.,  p.  140)  mentions  the  fact  that  the  Mexican  priests 
and   sacrificers  clothed  themselves   in   the   skin  of   a   slain   woman,   and 


536  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  [pp.  307-340 

placed   themselves   with   arms   stretched   out  like   a  cross   before   the   god 
of  war. 

"'  "  Indian  Antiquities,"  VI,  49. 

*^*  The  primitive  Egyptian  cross  form  is  meant:  T. 

*^"Z6ckler:  Ibid.,  p.  19.  The  bud  is  plainly  phallic.  See  the  above- 
mentioned  dream  of  the  young  woman. 

*^"  I  am  indebted  for  my  information  about  these  researches  to  Pro- 
fessor Fiechter  of  Stuttgart. 

"*Z6ckler:  Ibid.,  p.  33. 

^^'^  The  sacrifice  is  submerged  in  the  water,  that  is,  in  the  mother. 

'^'  Compare  later  the  moon  as  gathering  place  of  souls  (the  devour- 
ing mother). 

^'^  Compare  here  what  Abraham  has  to  say  in  reference  to  pupilla 
("Dreams  and  Myths"). 

^'^  Retreat  of  Re  upon  the  heavenly  cow.  In  a  Hindoo  rite  of  purifica- 
tion, the  penitent  must  creep  through  an  artificial  cow  in  order  to  be 
born   anew. 

^^^  Schultze:  "  Psychologie  der  Naturvolker."     Leipzig  1900,  p.  338. 

*"Brugsch:  Ibid.,   p.  290. 

*'*  One  need  not  be  amazed  at  this  formula  because  it  is  the  animal 
in  us,  the  primitive  forces  of  which  appear  in  religion.  In  this  con- 
nection Dieterich's  words  ("  Mithrasliturgie,"  p.  108)  take  on  an  espe- 
cially important  aspect.  "  The  old  thoughts  come  from  beloiv  in  new 
force  in  the  history  of  religion.  The  revolution  from  below  creates  a 
new  life  of  religion  in  primitive  indestructible  forms." 

^''Dispute  between  Mary  and  the  Cross  in  R.  Morris:  "Legends  of  the 
Holy  Rood."     London  1871. 

**°  A  very  beautiful  representation  of  the  blood-red  sun  sinking  into 
the  sea. 

^"^  Jesus  appears  here  as  branch  and  bud  in  the  tree  of  life.  Compare 
here  the  interesting  reference  in  Robertson:  "Evangelical  Myths,"  p.  51, 
in  regard  to  "Jesus,  the  Nazarene,"  a  title  which  he  derives  from 
Nazar  or  Netzer  =  branch. 

^"^  In  Greece,  the  pale  of  torture,  on  which  the  criminal  was  stretched 
or  punished,  was  termed  eKarr/  (Hecate),  the  subterranean  mother  of 
death. 

*"Diez:  "  Etym.  Worterbuch  der  romanischen  Sprachen,"  p.  90. 


CHAPTER  VI 

*  Witches  easily  change  themselves  into  horses,  therefore  the  nail- 
marks  of  the  horseshoe  may  be  seen  upon  their  hands.  The  devil 
rides  on  witch-horses,  priests'  cooks  are  changed  after  death  into  horses, 
etc.     Negelein,  Zeitschrift  des  Vereines  fur  Volkskunde,  XI,  p.  406. 


pp.  307-340]      BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  537 

^  Just  so  does  the  mythical  ancient  king  Tahmuraht  ride  upon  Ahriman, 
the  devil. 

^  The  she-asses  and  their  foals  might  belong  to  the  Christian  sun  myth, 
because  the  Zodiacal  sign  Cancer  (Summer  solstice)  was  designated  in 
antiquity  as  an  ass  and  its  young.  (Compare  Robertson:  "Evangelical 
Myths,"  p.   19.) 

*  Also  a  centaur. 

^  Compare  the  exhaustive  presentation  of  this  theme  in  Jahn's  "  Ross 
und  Reiter." 

°  Sleipnir  is  eight-footed. 

'Negelein:  Ibid.,  p.  412. 

'Negelein:  Ibid.,  p.  419. 

^  I  have  since  learned  of  a  second  exactly  similar  case. 

"Preller:  "  Griech.  Mythologie,"  I,  I,  p.  432. 

"  See  further  examples  in  Aigremont:  "Fuss-  und  Schuhsymbolik." 

^^Aigremont:  Ibid.,  p.   17. 

"Negelein:   Ibid.,  p.   386. 

^■*  Ample  proofs  of  the  Centaurs  as  wind  gods  are  to  be  found  in 
E.  H.  Meyer:  "  Indogermanische  Mythen,"  p.  447. 

^^  This  is  an  especial  motive,  which  must  have  something  typical  in 
it.  My  patient  ("Psychology  of  Dementia  Praecox,"  p.  165)  also 
declared  that  her  horses  had  "half-moons"  under  their  skin,  like 
"  little  curls."  In  the  songs  of  Rudra  of  the  Rigveda,  of  the  boar  Rudra 
it  is  said  that  his  hair  was  "wound  up  in  the  shape  of  shells."  Indra's 
body  is  covered  with  eyes. 

"  This  change  results  from  a  world  catastrophe.  In  mythology  the 
verdure  and  the  upward  striving  of  the  tree  of  life  signify  also  the 
turning-point  in  the  succession  of  the  ages. 

^'  Therefore  the  lion  was  killed  by  Samson,  who  later  harvested  the 
honey  from  the  body.  The  end  of  summer  is  the  plenteousness  of  the 
autumn.  It  is  a  close  parallel  to  the  sacrificium  Mithriacum.  For 
Samson,  see  Steinthal:  "Die  Sage  von  Simson,"  Zeitschrift  fur  Vblker- 
psych.,"  Vol.  II. 

^'Philo:  "In  Genesim,"  I,  100.  (Cited  by  Cumont:  "  Textes  et 
Monuments,"  I,  p.  82.) 

^"Spiegel:  "  Eran.  Altertumskunde,"  Vol.  II,  p.  193.  In  the  writings 
ascribed  to  Zoroaster,  Tlepl  ^iaeug,  the  Ananke,  the  necessity  of  fate,  is 
represented  by  the  air.     Cumont:  Ibid.,  I,  p.  87. 

"  Spielrein's  patient  {Jahrbuch,  III,  p.  394)  speaks  of  horses,  who 
eat  men,  also  exhumed  bodies. 

^'Negelein:  Ibid.,  p.  416. 

^' P.  Thomas  a  Villanova  Wegener:  "Das  wunderbare  aussere  und 
innere  Leben  der  Dienerin  Gottes  Anna  Catherina  Emmerich."  Diilmen 
i.  W.   1891. 


538  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE   [pp.  307-340 

''  The  heart  of  the  mother  of  God  is  pierced  by  a  sword. 

^*  Corresponding  to  the  idea  in  Psalm  xi:2,  "For  lo,  the  wicked  bend 
their  bow,  they  make  ready  their  arrow  upon  the  string,  that  they  may 
privily  shoot  at  the  upright  in  heart." 

*"  K.  E.  Neumann:  "The  Speeches  of  Gautama  Buddha,"  translated 
from  the  German  collection  of  the  fragments  of  Suttanipato  of  the 
Pali-Kanon.     Miinchen   1911. 

^°  With  the  same  idea  of  an  endogenous  pain  Theocritus  (27,  28) 
calls  the  birth  throes  "Arrows  of  the  Ilithyia."  In  the  sense  of  a 
wish  the  same  comparison  is  found  in  Jesus  Sirach  19:12.  "When 
a  word  penetrates  a  fool  it  is  the  same  as  if  an  arrow  pierced  his  loins." 
That  is  to  say,  it  gives  him  no  rest  until  It  is  out. 

*'  One  might  be  tempted  to  say  that  these  were  merely  figuratively 
expressed  coitus  scenes.  But  that  would  be  a  little  too  strong  and  an 
unjustifiable  accentuation  of  the  material  at  issue.  We  cannot  forget 
that  the  saints  have,  figuratively,  taught  the  painful  domestification  of 
the  brute.  The  result  of  this,  which  is  the  progress  of  civilization,  has 
also  to  be  recognized  as  a  motive  for  this  action. 

^*  Apuleius  ("Metam.,"  Book  II,  31)  made  use  of  the  symbolism 
of  bow  and  arrow  in  a  very  drastic  manner,  "  Ubi  primam  sagittam 
saevi  Cupidinis  in  ima  praecordia  mea  delapsam  excepi,  arcum  meum 
en!  Ipse  vigor  attendit  et  oppido  formido,  ne  nervus  rigoris  nimietate 
rumpatur  "  (-When  I  pulled  out  the  first  arrow  of  fierce  Cupid  that  had 
entered  into  my  inmost  breast,  behold  my  bow !  Its  very  vigor  stretches 
it  and  makes  me  fear  lest  the  string  be  broken  by  the  excessive  tautness). 

^*  Thus  the  plague-bringing  Apollo.  In  Old  High  German,  arrow  is 
called  "  strala  "   {stra/ilen  =  rays). 

'"  Spielrein's  patient  {Jahrbuch,  III,  p.  371)  has  also  the  idea  of  the 
cleavage  of  the  earth  in  a  similar  connection.  "  Iron  is  used  for  the 
purpose  of  penetrating  into  the  earth.  .  .  .  with  iron  man  can  .  .  . 
create  men  .  .  .  the  earth  is  split,  burst  open,  man  is  divided  ...  is 
severed  and  reunited.  In  order  to  make  an  end  of  the  burial  of  the 
living,  Jesus  Christ  calls  his  disciples  to  penetrate  into  the  earth." 

The  motive  of  "cleavage"  is  of  general  significance.  The  Persian 
hero  Tishtriya,  who  also  appeared  as  a  white  horse,  opens  the  rain 
lake,  and  thus  makes  the  earth  fruitful.  He  is  called  Tir  =  arrow. 
He  was  also  represented  as  feminine,  with  a  bow  and  arrow.  Mithra 
with  his  arrow  shot  the  water  from  the  rock,  so  as  to  end  the  drought. 
The  knife  is  sometimes  found  stuck  in  the  earth.  In  Mithraic  monuments 
sometimes  it  is  the  sacrificial  instrument  which  kills  the  bull.  (Cumont: 
Ibid.,  pp.  lis,  116,  165.) 

**  Spielrein's  patient  also  states  that  she  has  been  shot  through  by 
God.  (3  shots:)  "then  came  a  resurrection  of  the  spirit."  This  is  the 
symbolism  of  introversion. 

"^  This  is  also  represented  mythologically  in  the  legend  of  Theseus 
and  Peirithoos,  who  wished  to  capture  the  subterranean  Proserpina. 
With  this  aim  they  enter  a  chasm  in  the  earth  in  the  grove  Kolonos, 
in  order  to  get  down  to  the  underworld;  when  they  were  below  they 
wished  to  rest,  but  being  enchanted  they  hung  on  the  rocks,  that  is  to 
say,  they  remained  fixed   in  the  mother   and  were  therefore   lost  for  the 


pp.  307-340]     BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  539 

upperworld.  Later  Theseus  was  freed  by  Hercules  (revenge  of  Horus 
for  Osiris),  at  which  time  Hercules  appears  in  the  role  of  the  death- 
conquering  hero. 

^^  This  formula  applies  most  directly  to  dementia  praecox. 

°*  See  Roscher:  s.  v.  Philoktetes,  Sp.  2318,   15. 

'"  When  the  Russian  sun-hero  Oleg  stepped,  on  the  skull  of  the  slain 
horse,  a  serpent  came  out  of  it  and  bit  him  on  the  foot.  Then  he  became 
sick  and  died.  When  Indra  in  the  form  of  Qyena,  the  falcon,  stole  the 
soma  drink,  Kriqanu,  the  herdsman,  wounded  him  in  his  foot  with  his 
arrow    ("Rigveda,"  I,  155;   IV,   322). 

'"  Similar  to  the  Lord  of  the  Grail  who  guards  the  chalice,  the  mother 
symbol.  The  myth  of  Philoctetes  is  taken  from  a  more  involved  connec- 
tion, the  Hercules  myth.  Hercules  has  two  mothers,  the  benevolent 
Alcmene  and  the  pursuing  Hera  (Lamia),  from  whose  breast  he  has 
absorbed  immortality.  Hercules  conquered  Hera's  serpent  while  yet 
in  the  cradle;  that  is  to  say,  conquered  the  "terrible  mother,"  the  Lamia. 
But  from  time  to  time  Hera  sent  to  him  attacks  of  madness,  in  one  of 
which  he  killed  his  children  (Lamia  motive).  According  to  an  inter- 
esting tradition,  this  deed  occurred  at  the  moment  when  Hercules 
refused  to  perform  a  great  act  in  the  service  of  Eurystheus.  As  a  result 
of  the  refusal,  the  libido,  in  readiness  for  the  work,  regressed  in  a 
typical  manner  to  the  unconscious  mother-imago,  which  resulted  in 
madness  (as  to-day),  during  which  Hercules  identifies  himself  with 
Lamia  (Hera)  and  murders  his  own  children.  The  delphic  oracle 
communicates  to  him  the  fact  that  he  is  named  Hercules  because  he  owes 
his  immortal  fame  to  Hera,  who  through  her  persecution  compelled  him 
to  great  deeds.  It  can  be  seen  that  "the  great  deed"  really  means  the 
conquering  of  the  mother  and  through  her  to  win  immortality.  His 
characteristic  weapon,  the  club,  he  cuts  from  the  maternal  olive  tree. 
Like  the  sun,  he  possessed  the  arrows  of  Apollo.  He  conquered  the 
Nemean  lion  in  his  cave,  which  has  the  signification  of  "  the  grave  in 
the  mother's  womb"  (see  the  end  of  this  chapter).  Then  follows  the 
combat  with  the  Hydra,  the  typical  battle  with  the  dragon;  the  complete 
conquering  of  the  mother.  (See  below.)  Following  this,  the  capture 
of  the  Cerynean  doe,  whom  he  wounded  with  an  arrow  in  the  foot. 
This  is  what  generally  happens  to  the  hero,  but  here  it  is  reversed. 
Hercules  showed  the  captured  Erymanthian  boar  to  Eurystheus,  where- 
upon the  latter  in  fear  crept  into  a  cask.  That  is,  he  died.  The 
Stymphalides,  the  Cretan  bull,  and  the  man-devouring  horse  of  Diomedes 
are  symbols  of  the  devastating  powers  of  death,  among  which  the  latter's 
relation  to  the  mother  may  be  recognized  especially.  The  battle  for 
the  precious  girdle  of  the  Amazon  queen  Hippolyte  permits  us  to  see 
once  more  very  clearly  the  shadow  of  the  mother.  Hippolyte  is  ready 
to  give  up  the  girdle,  but  Hera,  changing  herself  into  the  form  of 
Hippolyte,  calls  the  Amazons  against  Hercules  in  battle.  (Compare 
Horus,  fighting  for  the  head  ornament  of  Isis,  about  which  there  is 
more  later.  Chap.  7.)  The  liberation  of  Hesione  results  from  Her- 
cules journeying  downwards  with  his  ship  into  the  belly  of  the  monster, 
and  killing  the  monster  from  within  after  three  days  labor.  (Jonah 
motive;  Christ  in  the  tomb  or  in  hell;  the  victory  over  death  by  creeping 
into  the  womb  of  the  mother,  and  its  destruction  in  the  form  of  the 
mother.  The  libido  in  the  form  of  the  beautiful  maiden  again  con- 
quered.)    The  expedition  to  Erythia  is  a  parallel  to  Gilgamesh,  also  to 


540  BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE     [pp.  307-340 

Moses  in  the  Koran,  whose  goal  was  the  confluence  of  the  two  seas: 
it  is  the  journey  of  the  sun  to  the  Western  sea,  where  Hercules  discov- 
ered the  straits  of  Gibraltar  ("to  that  passage":  Faust),  and  with  the 
ship  of  Helios  set  out  towards  Erythia.  There  he  overcame  the  gigantic 
guardian  Eurytion  (Chumbaba  in  the  Gilgamesh  epic,  the  symbol  of 
the  father),  then  the  triune  Geryon  (a  monster  of  phallic  libido  sym- 
bolism), and  at  the  same  time  wounded  Hera,  hastening  to  the  help 
of  Geryon  by  an  arrow  shot.  Then  the  robbery  of  the  herd  followed. 
"The  treasure  attained  with  difficulty"  is  here  presented  in  surroundings 
which  make  it  truly  unmistakable.  Hercules,  like  the  sun,  goes  to 
death,  down  into  the  mother  (Western  sea),  but  conquers  the  libido 
attached  to  the  mother  and  returns  with  the  wonderful  kine;  he  has 
won  back  his  libido,  his  life,  the  mighty  possession.  We  discover  the 
same  thought  in  the  robbery  of  the  golden  apples  of  Hesperides,  which 
are  defended  by  the  hundred-headed  dragon.  The  victory  over  Cer- 
berus is  also  easily  understood  as  the  victory  over  death  by  entrance 
into  the  mother  (underworld).  In  order  to  come  to  his  wife  Deianira, 
he  has  to  undergo  a  terrible  battle  with  a  water  god,  Achelous  (with 
the  mother).  The  ferryman  Nessus  (a  centaur)  violates  Deianira. 
With  his  sun  arrows  Hercules  killed  this  adversary,  but  Nessus  advised 
Deianira  to  preserve  his  poisoned  blood  as  a  love  charm.  When  after 
the  insane  murder  of  Iphitus  Delphi  denied  him  the  speech  of  the 
oracle,  he  took  possession  of  the  sacred  tripod.  The  delphic  oracle  then 
compelled  him  to  become  a  slave  of  Omphale,  who  made  him  like 
a  child.  After  this  Hercules  returned  home  to  Deianira,  who  presented 
him  with  the  garment  poisoned  with  Nessus'  blood  (the  Isis  snake), 
which  immediately  clung  so  closely  to  his  skin  that  he  in  vain  attempted 
to  tear  it  off.  (The  casting  of  the  skin  of  the  aging  sun-god;  Serpent, 
as  symbol  of  rejuvenation.)  Hercules  then  ascended  the  funeral  pyre 
in  order  to  destroy  himself  by  fire  like  the  phoenix,  that  is  to  say,  to 
give  birth  to  himself  again  from  his  own  egg.  No  one  but  young 
Philoctetes  dared  to  sacrifice  the  god.  Therefore  Philoctetes  received 
the  arrows  of  the  sun  and  the  libido  myth  was  renewed  with  this 
Horus. 

''  Apes,  also,  have  an  instinctive  fear  of  snakes. 

'*  How  much  alive  are  still  such  primitive  associations  is  shown  by 
Segantini's  picture  of  the  two  mothers:  cow  and  calf,  mother  and  child 
in  the  same  stable.  From  this  symbolism  the  surroundings  of  the  birth- 
place of  the  Savior  are  explained. 

'"The  myth  of  Hippolytos  shows  very  beautifully  all  the  typical  parts 
of  the  problem:  His  stepmother  Phaedra  wantonly  falls  in  love  with 
him.  He  repulses  her,  she  complains  to  her  husband  of  violation;  the 
latter  implores  the  water  god  Poseidon  to  punish  Hippolytos.  Then  a 
monster  comes  out  of  the  sea.  Hippolytos'  horses  shy  and  drag  Hippolytos 
to  death.  But  he  is  resuscitated  by  Aesculapius  and  is  placed  by  the 
gods  with  the  wise  nymph,  Egeria,  the  counsellor  of  Numa  Porapilius. 
Thus  the  wish  is  fulfilled;  from  incest,  wisdom  has  come. 

^"  Compare  Hercules  and  Omphale. 
*^  Compare  the  reproach  of  Gilgamesh  against  Ishtar. 
"  Spielrein's  patient  is  also  sick  from  "  a  snake  bite."     Jahrbuch,  III, 
p.  385- 

*^  The   entirely   introverted   patient   of    Spielrein    uses    similar    images: 


pp.  307-340]      BATTLE  FOR  DELIVERANCE  541 

she  speaks  of  "a   rigidity  of  the  soul  on  the  cross,"  of  "stone  figures" 
which   must  be   "  ransomed." 

I  call  attention  here  to  the  fact  that  the  symbolisms  mentioned  above 
are  striking  examples  of  Silberer's  "  functional  category."  They  depict 
the  condition  of   introversion. 

■*■' W.  Gurlitt  says:  "The  carrying  of  the  bull  is  one  of  the  difficult 
a6/la  (services)  which  Mithra  performed  in  the  service  of  freeing 
humanity;  "somewhat  corresponding,  if  it  is  permitted  to  compare  the 
small  with  the  great,  with  the  carrying  of  the  cross  by  Christ"  (Cumont: 
"  Textes  et  Monuments,"  I,  72).  Surely  it  is  permissible  to  compare  the 
two  acts. 

Man  should  be  past  that  period  when,  in  true  barbaric  manner,  he 
haughtily  scorned  the  strange  gods,  the  "  dii  minorum  gentium."  But 
man   has   not   progressed   that  far,   even  yet. 

■'"Robertson  ("Evangelical  Myths,"  p.  130)  gives  an  interesting  con- 
tribution to  the  question  of  the  symbol  of  the  carrying  of  the  cross. 
Samson  carried  the  "  pillars  of  the  gates  from  Gaza  and  died  between 
the  columns  of  the  temple  of  the  Philistines."  Hercules,  weighted  down 
by  his  burden,  carried  his  columns  to  the  place  (Gades),  where  he  also 
died  according  to  the  Syrian  version  of  the  legend.  The  columns  of 
Hercules  mark  the  western  point  where  the  sun  sinks  into  the  sea.  In 
old  art  he  was  actually  represented  carrying  the  two  columns  under 
his  arms  in  such  a  way  that  they  exactly  formed  a  cross.  Here  we 
perhaps  have  the  origin  of  the  myth  of  Jesus,  who  carries  his  own 
cross  to  the  place  of  execution.  It  is  worth  noting  that  the  three 
synoptics  substitute  a  man  of  the  name  of  Simon  from  Cyrene  as  bearer 
of  the  cross.  Cyrene  is  in  Libya,  the  legendary  scene  upon  which 
Hercules  performed  the  labor  of  carrying  the  columns,  as  we  have 
seen,  and  Simon  (Simson)  is  the  nearest  Greek  name-form  for  Samson, 
which  in  Greek  might  have  been  read  Simson,  as  in  Hebrew.  But  in 
Palestine  it  was  Simon,  Semo  or  Sem,  actually  a  name  of  a  god,  who 
represented  the  old  sun-god  Semesch,  who  was  identified  with  Baal,  from 
whose  myth  the  Samson  myth  has  doubtless  arisen.  The  god  Simon 
enjoyed  especial  honor  in  Samaria.  "  The  cross  of  Hercules  might  well 
be  the  sun's  wheel,  for  which  the  Greeks  had  the  sj'mbol  of  the  cross. 
The  sun's  wheel  upon  the  bas-relief  in  the  small  metropolis  at  Athens 
contains  a  cross,  which  is  very  similar  to  the  Maltese  cross."  (See  Thiele: 
"  Antike  Himmelsbilder,"  1898,  p.   59.) 

*'  The  Greek  myth  of  Ixion,  who  was  bound  to  the  "  four-spoked 
wheel,"  says  this  almost  without  disguise.  Ixion  first  murdered  his 
stepfather,  but  later  was  absolved  from  guilt  by  Zeus  and  blessed  with 
his  favor.  But  the  ingrate  attempted  to  seduce  Hera,  the  mother.  Zeus 
deceived  him,  however,  allowing  the  goddess  of  the  clouds,  Nephele,  to 
assume  Hera's  form.  (From  this  connection  the  centaurs  have  arisen.) 
Ixion  boasted  of  his  deed,  but  Zeus  as  a  punishment  plunged  him  into 
the  underworld,  where  he  was  bound  to  a  wheel  continually  whirled 
around  by  the  wind.  (Compare  the  punishment  of  Francesca  da  Rimini 
in  Dante  and  the  "penitents"  by  Segantini.) 

■"  Cited  from  Zentralblatt  fiir  Psychoanalyse,  Jahrgang  II,  p.  365. 

*^  The  symbolism  of  death  appearing  in  abundance  in  dreams  has  been 
emphasized  by  Stekel   ("Sprache  des  Traumes,"  p.  317). 

**  Compare  the  Cassius  scene  above. 


542  THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE    [pp.  341-427 

CHAPTER  VII 

*  A  direct  unconstrained  expression  of  sexuality  is  a  natural  occurrence 
and  as  such  neither  unbeautiful  nor  repulsive.  The  "moral"  repression 
makes  sexuality  on  one  side  dirty  and  hypocritical,  on  the  other  shameless 
and  obtrusive. 

"  Compare  what  is  said  below  concerning  the  motive  of  fettering. 

'  The  sacrilegious  assault  of  Horus  upon  Isis,  at  which  Plutarch 
("  De  Isis  et  Osiris")  stands  aghast;  he  expresses  himself  as  follows 
concerning  it.  "  But  if  any  one  wishes  to  assume  and  maintain  that  all 
this  has  really  happened  and  taken  place  with  respect  to  blessed  and 
imperishable  nature,  which  for  the  most  part  is  considered  as  corre- 
sponding to  the  divine;  then,  to  speak  in  the  words  of  Aeschylus,  'he 
must  spit  out  and  clean  his  mouth.'  "  From  this  sentence  one  can  form 
a  conception  of  how  the  well-intentioned  people  of  ancient  society  may 
have  condemned  the  Christian  point  of  view,  first  the  hanged  God,  then 
the  management  of  the  family,  the  "  foundation "  of  the  state.  The 
psychologist  is  not  surprised. 

*  Compare  the  typical  fate  of  Theseus  and  Peirithoos. 

'Compare  the  example  given  for  that  in  Aigremont:  "Fuss-  und 
Schuhsymbolik."  Also  Part  I  of  this  book;  the  foot  of  the  sun  in  an 
Armenian  folk  prayer.  Also  de  Gubernatis:  "Die  Tiere  in  der  Indo- 
Germanischen  Mythologie,"  Vol.  I,  p.  220  ff. 

«Rohde:  "Psyche." 

'Porphyrias  ("De  antro  nympharum."  Quoted  by  Dieterich:  "  Mith- 
raslit.,"  p.  63)  says  that  according  to  the  Mithraic  doctrine  the  souls 
which  pass  away  at  birth  are  destined  for  winds,  because  these  souls 
had  taken  the  breath  of  the  wind  into  custody  and  therefore  had  a 
similar  nature:  i/w;faZf  6'  n^  yeveaiv  loiaati  kcu  and  yevtceui;  x'^pi^o/ievai^ 
EiKdrug  ira^av  aveuovc  ^la  to  e(pt2.Kead^ai  Kal  avrag  -rrvEVjua  koI  ovaiav  f;if«i' 
ToiavTTjv  —  (The  souls  departing  at  birth  and  becoming  separated,  prob- 
ably become  winds  because  of  inhaling  their  breath  and  becoming  the 
same  substance). 

*  In  the  Mithraic  liturgy  the  generating  breath  of  the  spirit  comes  from 
the  sun,  probably  "from  the  tube  of  the  sun"  (see  Part  I).  Corre- 
sponding to  this  idea,  in  the  Rigveda  the  sun  is  called  the  One-footed. 
Compare  with  that  the  Armenian  prayer,  for  the  sun  to  allow  its  foot 
to  rest  upon  the  face  of  the  suppliant  (Abeghian:  "Der  armenische 
Volksglaube,"  1899,  p.  41). 

°  Firmicus  Maternus    (Mathes.,   I,   5,  9):  "  Cui    (animo)    descensus  per 
orbem  solis  tribuitur,  per  orbem  vero  lunae  praeparatur  ascensus  "   (For 
which    soul    a    descent   through    the    disc   of    the    sun    is    devised,   but   the     i 
ascent  is  prepared  through  the  disc  of  the  moon).     Lydus    ("  De  mens.," 
IV,    3)    tells    us   that   the   hierophant   Praetextatus    has    said    that   Janus     I 
despatches  the    diviner  souls    to  the  lunar    fields:  rog   Qeiorepng   ijivxag   enl    ! 
T^v  ceItjvikov  x^po'^  anonEfiKEi.      Epiphanius    (Haeres  LXVI,   52)  :  on  ek  tuv 
ipvxuv  6  dioKOQ  {TfjQ  aelijvTjq)  aTrowifiK^aTai.     Quoted  by  Cumont:  "  Textes  et 
Monuments,"  I,  I,  p.  40.     In  exotic  myths  it  is  the  same  with  the  moon. 
Frobenius:  Ibid.,  p.  352  fl. 

" "  The  Light  of  Asia,  or  The  Great  Renunciation "  (Mahabhinish- 
kramana). 


J 


pp.  341-427]     THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  543 

**  One  sees  upon  corresponding  representations  how  the  elephant 
presses  into  Maya's  head  with  its  trunk. 

"Rank:  "The  Myth  of  the  Birth  of  the  Hero,"  translated  by  W. 
White. 

^'  The  speedy  dying  of  the  mother  or  the  separation  from  the  mother 
belongs  to  the  myth  of  the  hero.  In  the  myth  of  the  swan  maiden  which 
Rank  has  analyzed  very  beautifully,  there  is  the  wish-fulfilling  thought, 
that  the  swan  maiden  can  fly  away  again  after  the  birth  of  the  child, 
because  she  has  then  fulfilled  her  purpose.  Man  needs  the  mother  only 
for  rebirth. 

^*  Indian  word  for  the  rustle  of  the  wind  in  the  trees. 

*'  Means  sound  of  the  waves. 

*'  An  introjection  of  the  object  into  the  subject  in  the  sense  of  Ferenczi, 
the  "gegenwurf"  or  "  widerwurf "  (Objektum)  of  the  mystics  Eckart 
and  Bohme. 

*' Karl  Joel  ("Seele  und  Welt,"  Jena  1912)  says  (p.  153):  "Life  does 
not  diminish  in  artists  and  prophets,  but  is  enhanced.  They  are  the 
leaders  into  the  lost  Paradise,  which  now  for  the  first  time  becomes 
Paradise  through  rediscovery.  It  is  no  more  the  old  dull  unity  of  life 
towards  which  the  artist  strives  and  leads,  it  is  the  sentient  reunion, 
not  the  empty  but  the  full  unity,  not  the  unity  of  indifference  but  the 
unity  of  difference."  "All  life  is  the  raising  of  the  equilibrium  and 
the  pulling  backwards  into  equilibrium.  Such  a  return  do  we  find  in 
religion  and   art." 

'*  By  the  primal  experience  must  be  understood  that  first  human  differ- 
entiation between  subject  and  object,  that  first  conscious  placing  of 
object,  which  is  not  psychologically  conceivable  without  the  presup- 
position of  an  inner  division  of  the  animal  "  man "  from  himself,  by 
which  precisely  is  he  separated  from  nature  which  is  at  one  with  itself. 

^^  Crevecoeur:  "Voyage  dans   la  Haute  Pensylvanie,"  I,  362. 

^^  The  dragons  of  the  Greek  (and  Swiss)  legends  live  in  or  near 
springs  or  other  waters  of  which  they  are  often  the  guardians. 

"  Compare  the  discussion  above  about  the  encircling  and  devouring 
motive.  Water  as  a  hindrance  in  dreams  seems  to  refer  to  the  mother, 
longing  for  the  mother  instead  of  positive  work.  The  crossing  of  water 
— overcoming  of  the  resistance;  that  is  to  say  the  mother,  as  a  symbol  of 
the  longing  for  inactivity  like  death  or  sleep. 

"  Compare  also  the  Attic  custom  of  stuffing  a  bull  in  spring,  the  cus- 
toms of  the  Lupercalia,  Saturnalia,  etc.  I  have  devoted  to  this  motive 
a  separate  investigation,  therefore  I  forego  further  proof. 

''  In  the  Gilgamesh  epic,  it  is  directly  said  that  it  is  immortality  which 
the  hero  goes  to  obtain. 

^^Sepp:  "Das  Heldentum  und  dessen  Bedeutung  fiir  das  Christentum,'* 
Vol.  Ill,  82. 

"  Compare  the  symbolism  of  the  arrow  above. 

*' This  thought  is  generally  organized  in  the  doctrine  of  pre-existence. 


544  THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE   [pp.  341-427 

Thus    in    any    case    man    is    his    own    generator,    immortal    and    a    hero, 
whereby  the  highest  wishes  are  fulfilled. 

*'Frazer:  "Golden  Bough,"  IV,  297. 

** "  Thou  seekest  the  heaviest  burden,  there  findest  thou  thyself " 
(Nietzsche:  "  Zarathustra  "). 

**  It  is  an  unvarying  peculiarity,  so  to  speak,  that  in  the  whale-dragon 
myth,  the  hero  is  very  hungry  in  the  belly  of  the  monster  and  begins  to 
cut  off  pieces  from  the  animal,  so  as  to  feed  himself.  He  is  in  the 
nourishing  mother  "  in  the  presexual  stage."  His  next  act,  in  order  to 
free  himself,  is  to  make  a  fire.  In  a  myth  of  the  Eskimos  of  the  Behring 
Straits,  the  hero  finds  a  woman  in  the  whale's  belly,  the  soul  of  the 
animal,  which  is  feminine  (Ibid,  p.  85).  (Compare  Frobenius:  Ibid, 
passim.) 

*"  The  carrying  of  the  tree  played  an  important  part,  as  is  evident 
from  a  note  in  Strabo  X,  in  the  cult  of  Dionysus  and  Ceres   (Demeter). 

'*  A  text  on  the  Pyramids,  which  treats  of  the  arrival  of  the  dead 
Pharaoh  in  Heaven,  depicts  how  Pharaoh  takes  possession  of  the  gods 
in  order  to  assimilate  their  divine  nature,  and  to  become  the  lord  of 
the  gods:  "His  servants  have  imprisoned  the  gods  with  a  chain,  they 
have  taken  them  and  dragged  them  away,  they  have  bound  them,  they 
have  cut  their  throats,  and  taken  out  their  entrails,  they  have  dis- 
membered them  and  cooked  them  in  hot  vessels.  And  the  king  consumed 
their  force  and  ate  their  souls.  The  great  gods  form  his  breakfast,  the 
medium  gods  his  dinner,  the  little  gods  his  supper — the  king  consumes 
everything  that  comes  in  his  way.  Greedily  he  devours  everything  and 
his  magic  power  becomes  greater  than  all  magic  power.  He  becomes 
the  heir  of  the  power,  he  becomes  greater  than  all  heirs,  he  becomes  the 
lord  of  heaven,  he  eats  all  crowns  and  all  bracelets,  he  eats  the  wisdom 
of  every  god,  etc."  (Wiedemann:  "  Der  alte  Orient,"  II,  2,  1900,  p.  18). 
This  impossible  food,  this  "  Bulimie,"  strikingly  depicts  the  sexual  libido 
in  regression  to  the  presexual  material,  where  the  mother  (the  gods)  is 
not  the  object  of  sex  but  of  hunger. 

^^  The  sacramental  sacrifice  of  Dionysus-Zagreus  and  the  eating  of  the 
sacrificial  meat  produced  the  "  vior  Aiovvaog"  the  resurrection  of  the  god, 
as  plainly  appears  from  the  Cretan  fragments  of  the  Euripides*  quoted 
by  Dieterich  (Ibid.,  p.  105): 

dyvbv  (5e  ^lov  reivuv,  ff  ov 

Aibg  'iSaiov  fivarTiq  yevofiriv 

nal  VVKTCK6X0V  Zayptuq  ^ovTa^ 

Tovg  l)/j.o(j)a.yov(;  da'cra^  TeT^eaag, 

(Living  a  blameless  life  whereby  I  became  an  initiate  of  the 
Idaean  Zeus,  I  celebrated  the  carnivorous  banquet  of  Zagreus, 
the  wandering  herdsman  of  the  night.) 

The  mystics  took  the  god  into  themselves  by  eating  the  uncooked  meat 
of  the  sacrificial  animal. 

*'Richter:  14,  14. 

^*  Orphic  Hymn,  46.     Compare  Roscher:  "Lexicon,"  sect,  on  lakchos. 

"A  close  parallel  to  this  is  the  Japanese  myth  of  Izanagi,  who,  fol- 
lowing  his   dead    spouse   into   the    underworld,   implored   her   to    return. 


pp.  341-427]    THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  545 

She  is  ready,  but  beseeches  him,  "  Do  not  look  at  me."  Izanagi  produces 
light  with  his  reed,  that  is  to  say,  with  a  masculine  piece  of  wood  (the 
fire-boring  Phallus),  and  thus  loses  his  spouse.  (Frobenius:  Ibid.,  p.  343.) 
Mother  must  be  put  in  the  place  of  spouse.  Instead  of  the  mother,  the 
hero  produces  fire;  Hiawatha,  maize;  Odin,  Runes,  when  he  in  torment 
hung  on  the  tree. 

^*  Quoted  from  De  Jong:  "Das  antike  Mysterienwesen."  Leiden  1910, 
p.  22. 

*'  A  son-lover  from  the  Demeter  myth  is  lasion,  who  embraces  Demeter 
upon  a  thrice-ploughed  cornfield.  (Bridal  couch  in  the  pasture.)  For 
that  lasion  was  struck  by  lightning  by  Zeus   (Ovid:  "  Metam.,"  IX). 

^' See  Cumont:  "  Textes  et  Monuments,"  I,  p.  56. 

^'  "  Mithraslit.,"  p.   123. 

^^  For  example  upon  a  Campana  relief  in  Lovatelli  ("Antichi  monu- 
menti,"  Roma,  1889,  I,  IV,  Fig.  5).  Likewise  the  Veronese  Priapus  has 
a  basket  filled  with  phalli. 

*^  Compare  Grimm:  II,  IV,  p.  899:  Either  by  the  caressing  or  kissing 
of  a  dragon  or  a  snake,  the  fearful  animal  was  changed  into  a  beautiful 
woman  whom  the  hero  wins  in  this  way. 

*^  The  mother,  the  earth,  is  the  distributor  of  nourishment.  The 
mother  in  presexual  material  has  this  meaning.  Therefore  St.  Dominicus 
was  nourished  from  the  breasts  of  the  mother  of  God.  The  sun  wife, 
Namaqua,  consists  of  bacon.  Compare  with  this  the  megalomanic  ideas 
of  my  patient,  who  asserted:  "I  am  Germania  and  Helvetia  made  ex- 
clusively from  'sweet  butter'"   ("  Psychology'  of  Dementia  Praecox"). 

*' Compare  the  ideas  of  Nietzsche:  "Piercing  into  one's  own  pit,"  etc. 
In  a  prayer  to  Hermes  in  a  London  papyrus  it  is  said:  i^^'&e  f^oi,  Kvpie 
'EpfiTj,  wf  rd  fipEcpr/  Etg  rag  KoiAiar  tuv  yvvaiKuv  (Come  to  me,  Lord  Hermes,  as 
the  foetus  into  the  womb  of  the  mother).  Kenyon:  "Greek  Papyrus  in 
the  British  Museum,"  1893,  p.  116;  Pap.  CXXII,  Z.  2  ff.  Cited  by 
Dieterich:  Ibid.,  p.  97. 

*^  Compare  De  Jong:  Ibid.,  p.  22. 

*"  The  typical  grain  god  of  antiquity  was  Adonis,  whose  death  and 
resurrection  was  celebrated  annually.  He  was  the  son-lover  of  the 
mother,  for  the  grain  is  the  son  and  fructifier  of  the  womb  of  the  earth 
as  Robertson  very  correctly  remarks   ("Evangelical  Myths,"  p.  36). 

"De  Jong:  Ibid.,  p.  14. 

*'  Faust: 

"  There  whirls  the  press,  like  clouds  on  clouds  unfolding. 
Then  with  stretched  arm  swing  high  the  key  thou'rt  holding!  " 

**  As  an  example  among  many,  I  mention  here  the  Polynesian  Rata 
myth  cited  by  Frobenius:  Ibid.,  pp.  64-66:  "With  a  favorable  wind  the 
boat  was  sailing  easily  away  over  the  Ocean,  when  Nganaoa  called  out 
one  day:  'O  Rata,  here  is  a  fearful  enemy  who  rises  up  from  the 
Ocean!'  It  was  an  open  mussel  of  huge  dimensions.  One  shell  was 
in  front  of  the  boat,  the  other  behind  it,  and  the  vessel  was  directly 
between.  The  next  moment  the  horrible  mussel  would  have  clapped  its 
shells  together  and  ground  the  boat  and  occupants  to  pieces  in  its  grip. 


546  THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  [pp.  341-427 

But  Nganaoa  was  prepared  for  this  possibility.  He  grasped  his  long 
spear  and  quickly  plunged  it  into  the  belly  of  the  animal  so  that  the 
creature,  instead  of  snapping  together,  at  once  sank  back  to  the  bottom 
of  the  sea.  After  they  had  escaped  from  this  danger  they  continued  on 
their  way.  But  after  a  while  the  voice  of  the  always  watchful  Nganaoa 
was  again  to  be  heard.  'O  Rata,  once  more  a  terrible  enemy  rushes 
upwards  from  the  depths  of  the  ocean.'  This  time  it  was  a  mighty 
octopus,  whose  gigantic  tentacles  already  surrounded  the  boat,  in  order 
to  destroy  it.  At  this  critical  moment,  Nganaoa  seized  his  spear,  and 
plunged  it  into  the  head  of  the  octopus.  The  tentacles  sank  away  limp 
and  the  dead  monster  rose  to  the  surface  of  the  water.  Once  more  they 
continued  on  their  journey,  but  a  yet  greater  danger  awaited  them. 
One  day  the  valiant  Nganaoa  called  out,  '  O  Rata,  here  is  a  great 
whale!'  The  huge  jaws  were  wide  open,  the  lower  jaw  was  already 
under  the  boat,  and  the  upper  one  over  it.  One  moment  more  and  the 
whale  would  have  devoured  them.  Now  Nganaoa  '  the  dragon  slayer  ' 
broke  his  spear  into  two  parts,  and  at  the  moment  when  the  whale  was 
about  to  devour  them,  he  stuck  the  two  pieces  into  the  jaws  of  the  foe 
so  that  he  could  not  close  his  jaws.  Nganaoa  quickly  sprang  into  the 
jaws  of  the  great  whale  (devouring  of  the  hero)  and  looked  into  its 
belly,  and  what  did  he  see?  There  sat  both  his  parents,  his  father, 
Tairitokerau,  and  his  mother,  Vaiaroa,  who  had  been  gulped  down  into 
the  depths  of  this  monster.  The  oracle  has  come  true.  The  voyage  has 
come  to  its  end.  Great  was  the  joy  of  the  parents  of  Nganaoa  when  they 
saw  their  son.  They  were  convinced  that  their  freedom  was  at  hand. 
And  Nganaoa  resolved  upon  revenge.  He  took  one  of  the  two  pieces 
from  the  jaws  of  the  animal — one  was  enough  to  make  it  impossible  for 
the  whale  to  close  his  jaws  and  so  keep  a  passage  free  for  Nganaoa 
and  his  parents.  He  broke  this  part  of  the  spear  in  two,  in  order  to 
use  them  as  wood  to  produce  fire  by  rubbing.  He  commanded  his  father 
to  hold  one  firmly  below,  while  he  himself  managed  the  upper  one,  until 
the  fire  began  to  glimmer  (production  of  fire).  Now  when  he  blew  this 
into  flames,  he  hastened  to  heat  the  fatty  part  (heart)  of  the  belly  with 
the  fire.  The  monster,  writhing  with  pain,  sought  help  swimming  to 
the  nearest  land  (journey  in  the  sea).  As  soon  as  he  reached  the  sand- 
bank (land)  father,  mother  and  son  walked  onto  the  land  through  the 
open  jaws  of  the  dying  whale   (slipping  out  of  the  hero)." 

*^  In  the  New  Zealand  Maui  myth  (quoted  by  Frobenius:  Ibid.,  p.  66  ff.) 
the  monster  to  be  conquered  is  the  grandmother  Hine-nui-te-po.  Maui, 
the  hero,  says  to  the  birds  who  assist  him:  "My  little  friends,  now 
when  I  creep  into  the  jaws  of  the  old  woman,  you  must  not  laugh,  but 
when  I  have  been  in  and  come  out  again,  from  her  mouth,  then  you 
may  greet  me  with  jubilant  laughter."  Then  Maui  actually  creeps  into 
the  mouth  of  the  sleeping  old  woman. 

'"' Published  and  prepared  by  Julius  v.  Negelein,  in  "  Relig.  Ge- 
schichte."  Vers.  u.  Vorarb.  von  Dieterich  und  Wiinsch,  Vol.  XI. 
Giessen  1912. 

"Quoted,  J.  V.  Negelein:  "  Der  Traumschliissel  des  Jagaddeva,"  p. 
256. 

'"  The  pine-tree  speaks  the  significant  word,  "  Minne-wawa !  " 

"'  In  a  fairy  tale,  the  bird  comes  to  the  tree  which  grows  upon  the 
grave  of  the  mother  in  order  to  give  help. 


pp.  341-427]    THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  547 

^^Roscher:  s.  "  Picus,"  Sp.  2494,  62.  Probably  a  symbol  of  re- 
birth. 

"*  The  father  of  Picus  is  called  Sterculus  or  Sterculius,  a  name  which 
is  clearly  derived  from  stercus  =  excrementum;  he  is  also  said  to  be 
the  devisor  of  manure.  The  primitive  creator  who  also  created  the 
mother  did  so  in  the  manner  of  infantile  creation,  which  we  have  previ- 
ously learned.  The  supreme  god  laid  an  egg,  his  mother,  from  which 
he  was  again  produced — this  is  an  analogous  train  of  thought. 

°' Introversion  =  to  enter  the  mother;  to  sink  into  one's  own  inner- 
world,  or  source  of  the  libido,  is  symbolized  by  creeping  in,  passing 
through,  boring.  (Scratching  behind  the  ear  ^  making  fire.)  Boring 
into  the  ear,  scratching  with  the  nails,  swallowing  serpents.  Thus  the 
Buddhist  legend  is  understandable.  When  Gautama  had  spent  the  whole 
day  sitting  in  deep  reflection  under  the  sacred  tree,  at  evening  he  became 
Buddha,  the  illumined  one. 

"'  Compare  (fokXoQ    (phallus)  above  and  its  etymological  connection. 

*'  Spielrein's  patient  received  from  God  three  wounds  through  her 
head,  breast  and  eye.  "Then  there  came  a  resurrection  of  the  Spirit" 
{Jahrhuch,  III,  p.  376). 

In  the  Tibetan  myth  of  Bogda  Cesser  Khan  the  sun-hero  shoots  his 
arrow  into  the  forehead  of  the  demoniacal  old  woman,  who  devours  it 
and  spits  it  up  again.  In  a  Calmuc  myth,  the  hero  shoots  the  arrow 
into  the  eye  emitting  rays,  which  is  found  on  the  forehead  of  the  bull. 
Compare  with  that  the  victory  of  Polyphemus,  whose  character  is  sig- 
nified upon  an  Attic  vase  because  with  it  there  is  also  a  snake  (as  symbol 
of  the  mother.     See  the  explanation  of  the  sacrificium  Mithriacum). 

°°  In  the  form  of  the  father,  for  Megissogwon  is  the  demon  of  the 
west,  like  Mudjekeewis. 

"Compare  Deussen:  "  Geschichte  der  Philosophie,"  Vol.  I,  p.  14. 

'*  An  analogy  is  Zeus  and  Athene.  In  Rigveda  10,  31,  the  word  of 
prayer  becomes  a  pregnant  cow.  In  Persian  it  is  the  "Eye  of  Ahura"; 
Babylonian  Nabu:  the  word  of  fate;  Persian  vohii  mano:  the  good 
thought  of  the  creator  God;  in  Stoic  conceptions,  Hermes  is  logos  or 
world  intellect;  in  Alexandria  the  ^o(pia,  in  the  Old  Testament  it  is  the 
angel  of  Jehovah,  or  the  countenance  of  God.  Jacob  wrestled  with 
the  angel  during  the  night  at  the  ford  of  Jabbok,  after  he  had  crossed 
the  water  with  all  that  he  possessed.  (Night  journey  on  the  sea,  battle 
with  the  night  snake,  combat  at  the  ford  like  Hiawatha.)  In  this 
combat,  Jacob  dislocated  his  thigh.  (Motive  of  the  twisting  out  of  the 
arm.  Castration  on  account  of  the  overpowering  of  the  mother.)  This 
"face"  of  God  was  compared  in  the  old  Jewish  philosophy  to  the 
mystic  Metatron,  the  prince  of  the  face  of  God  (Josiah  5,  14),  who 
brings  "  the  prayer  to  God  "  and  "  in  whom  is  the  name  of  God."  The 
Naassens  (Ophits)  called  the  Holy  Ghost  the  "first  word,"  the  mother 
of  all  that  lives;  the  Valentinians  comprehended  the  descending  dove 
of  Pneuma  as  "the  word  of  the  mother  from  above,  the  Sophia." 
(Drews:  "Christ  Myth,"  I,  pp.  16,  22,  80.)  In  Assyria,  Gibil,  the  fire 
god,  had  the  role  of  Logos.  (Tiele:  "  Assyr.  Gesch."  (In  Ephrem, 
the  Syrian  writer  of  hymns,  John  the  Baptist  says  to  Christ:  "A  spark 
of  fire  in  the  air  waits  for  thee  over  the  Jordan.  If  thou  followest  it 
and  willst  be  baptised,  then  take  possession  of  thyself,  wash  thyself,  for 


548  THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE   [pp.  341-427 

who  has  the  power  to  take  hold  of  burning  fire  with  his  hands?  Thou, 
who  art  wholly  fire,  have  mercy  upon  me."  Usener:  "  Religions- 
geschichtliche   Untersuchungen."     Cited  by  Drews:  Ibid.,  p.  8i. 

*^  Perhaps  the  great  significance  of  the  name  arose  from  this  phantasy. 

*'  Grimm  mentions  the  legend  that  Siegfried  was  suckled  by  a  doe. 
(Compare  Hiawatha's  first  deed.) 

^*  Compare  Grimm's  "  Mythology."  Mime  or  Mimir  is  a  gigantic 
being  of  great  wisdom,  "  a  very  old  Nature  God,"  with  whom  the 
Norse  gods  associate.  Later  fables  make  of  him  a  demon  and  a  skilful 
smith  (closest  relation  to  Wieland).  Just  as  Wotan  obtained  advice 
from  the  wise  woman  (compare  the  quotation  from  Julius  Caesar  about 
the  German  matron),  so  does  Odin  go  to  the  brook  of  Mimir  in  which 
wisdom  and  judgment  lie  hidden,  to  the  spiritual  mother  (mother- 
imago).  There  he  requests  a  drink  (drink  of  immortality),  but  no 
sooner  does  he  receive  it  than  he  sacrifices  his  eye  to  the  well  (death 
of  the  sun  in  the  sea).  The  well  of  Mimir  points  undoubtedly  to  the 
mother  significance  of  Mimir.  Thus  Mimir  gets  possession  of  Odin's 
other  eye.  In  Mimir,  the  mother  (wise  giant)  and  the  embryo  (dwarf, 
subterranean  sun,  Harpocrates)  is  condensed;  likewise,  as  mother,  he  is 
the  source  of  wisdom  and  art.  ("Mother-imago"  therefore  may  be 
translated   as  "phantasy"   under  certain   circumstances.) 

'*  The  magic  sleep  is  also  present  in  the  Homeric  celebration  of  the 

Hierosgamos.     See  above.) 

'*  This  is  proved  by  Siegfried's  words: 

"  Through  furious  fire 
To  thee  have  I  fared; 
Nor  birny  nor  buckler 
Guarded  my  breast: 
The  flames  have  broken 
Through  to  my  heart, 
My  blood  doth  bound 
In  turbulent  streams; 
A  raving  fire 
Within  me  is  kindled." 

"  The  cave  dragon  is  the  "  terrible  mother."  In  the  German  legends 
the  maiden  to  be  rescued  often  appears  as  a  snake  or  dragon,  and  must 
be  kissed  in  this  form,  through  which  the  dragon  is  changed  into  a 
beautiful  woman.  A  fish's  or  a  serpent's  tail  is  attributed  to  certain 
wise  women.  In  the  "  golden  mountain "  a  king's  daughter  was  be- 
witched into  a  snake.  In  the  Oselberg  near  Dinkelsbiihl  there  lives  a 
snake  with  a  woman's  head  and  a  bunch  of  keys  around  her  neck. 
(Grimm.) 

•'  Faust  (II  Part) : 

Doch  im  Erstarren  such  ich  nicht  mein  Heil, 
Das  Schaudern   ist   der  Menschheit  bestes  Teil ; 
Wie  auch  die  Welt  ihm  das   Gefiihl  verteure, 
Ergriffen,  fiihlt  er  tief  das  Ungeheure. 

*'  "  Etymol.  Worterbuch  der  deutschen  Sprache,"  sub.  Hort. 

'"  "  Griechische  Etymologie,"  sub.  kevQu. 

'*  Pausanias:  I,  18,  7. 


pp.  341-427]    THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  549 

"Rohde:  "Psyche,"  IV.  Aufl.,  Vol.  I,  p.  214. 

"J.  Maehly:  "Die  Schlange  im  Mythus  und  Kultus  der  klassischen 
Volker,"  1867. 

''Duchesne:  "Lib.  pontifical.,"  I,  S.  CIX.  Cited  by  Cumont:  "  Textes 
et  Monuments,"  Vol.  I,  p.  351. 

"Cited  by  Cumont:  "Textes  et  Monuments,"  Vol.  I,  p.  351. 

"  Like  his  counterpart,  the  apocalyptic  "  son  of  man,"  from  whose 
mouth  proceeds  a  "sharp  two-edged  sword."  Rev.  i:i6.  Compare 
Christ  as  serpent  and  the  Antichrist  seducing  the  people.  Rev.  xx:  3. 
We  come  across  the  same  motive  of  the  guardian  dragon  who  pierces 
women,  in  the  myth  from  Van  Diemen's  Land:  "A  horn-back  lay  in 
the  cavity  of  a  rock,  a  huge  horn-back!  The  horn-back  was  large  and 
he  had  a  very  long  spear.  From  his  cavity  he  espied  the  women; 
he  saw  them  dive  into  the  water,  he  pieced  them  with  his  spear,  he 
killed  them,  he  carried  them  away.  For  some  time  they  were  to  be 
seen  no  longer."  The  monster  was  then  killed  by  the  two  heroes.  They 
made  fire(!)  and  brought  the  women  to  life  again.  (Cited  by  Frobenius: 
Ibid.,  p.  77.) 

"  The  eyes  of  the  Son  of  man  are  like  a  flame  of  fire.    Rev.  1:15. 

"Cited  by  Cumont:  "Textes  et  Monuments,"  I,  p.  352. 

"Compare  Roscher:  "Lexicon,"  I,  2,  1885. 

*"  The  triple  form  also  related  to  the  moon  (waxing,  full,  and  waning 
moon).  However,  such  cosmic  relations  are  primarily  projections  of 
metapsychology. 

''Faust  (II  Part):  The  Scene  of  the  mothers:  The  key  belongs  to 
Hecate,  npoBvpaia,  as  the  guardian  of  Hades,  and  psychopompic  Divinity. 
Compare  Janus,  Peter  and  Aion. 

*' Attribute  of  the  "terrible  mother":  Ishtar  has  "tormented  the  horse 
with  goad  and  whip  and  tortured  him  to  death."  (Jensen:  "  Gilgamesh 
Epic,"  p.  18.)     Also  an  attribute  of  Helios. 

*'  Phallic  symbol  of  fear. 

**  Murderous  weapon  as  symbol  of  the  fructifying  phallus. 

'*  Plato  has  already  testified  to  this  as  a  phallic  symbol,  as  is  men- 
tioned above. 

*"  Cited  by  Roscher:  I,  2,  Sp.  1909. 

"  Compare  the  symbolism  in  the  hymn  to  Mary  of  Melk  (12th  century). 
"  Santa  Maria, 

Closed  gate 

Opened  to  God's  command — 

Sealed  fountain. 

Barred  garden. 

Gate  of  Paradise." 
The  same  symbolism  occurs  in  an  erotic  verse: 

"  Maiden,  may  I  enter  with  you 

Into  your  rose  garden. 

There,  where  the  little  red  roses  grow, 

Those  delicate  and  tender  roses, 


550  THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE   [pp.  341-427 

With  a  tree  close  by, 
Whose  leaves  sway  to  and  fro, 
And  a  cool  little  brook 
Which  lies  directly  beneath  it." 

"'Herzog:  "  Aus  dem  Asklepieion  von  Kos."  Archiv  fiir  Religions- 
ivissenschait,  Vol.  X,  H.  2,  p.  219  ff. 

**  A  Mithraic  sanctuary  was,  when  at  all  possible,  a  subterranean 
grotto;  often  the  cavern  was  merely  an  artificial  one.  It  is  conceivable 
that  the  Christian  crypts  and  subterranean  churches  are  of  similar 
meaning. 

*"  Compare  Schultze:  "Die  Katakomben,"  1882,  p.  9. 

*^  In  the  Taurobolia  a  bull  was  sacrificed  over  a  grave,  in  which 
lay  the  one  to  be  consecrated.  His  initiation  consisted  in  being  covered 
with  the  blood  of  the  sacrifice.  Also  a  regeneration  and  rebirth,  baptisiQ. 
The  baptized  one  was  called  Renatus. 

"^Additional  proof  in  Herzog:  Ibid.,  p.  224. 

"  Ibid.,  p.  225. 

•*  Indeed  sacred  serpents  were  kept  for  display  and  other  purposes. 

"Rohde:  "Psyche,"  chap,  i,  p.  244. 

•*  Vol.  I,  p.  28. 

"  Fick.     Compare  "  Worterbuch,"  I,  p.  424. 

'*  Compare  the  stable  cleaning  of  Hercules.  The  stable,  like  the 
cavern,  is  a  place  of  birth.  We  find  stable  and  cavern  in  Mithracism 
combined  with  the  bull  symbolism,  as  in  Christianity.  (See  Robertson: 
"  Christ  and  Krishna.")  In  a  Basuto  myth,  the  stable  birth  also  occurs. 
(Frobenius.)  The  stable  birth  belongs  to  the  mythologic  animal  fable; 
therefore  the  legend  of  the  conceptio  immaculata,  allied  to  the  history 
of  the  impregnation  of  the  barren  Sarah,  appears  very  early  in  Egypt  as 
an  animal  fable.  Herodotus,  III,  28,  relates:  "This  Apis  or  Epaphos 
is  a  calf  whose  mother  was  unable  to  become  impregnated,  but  the 
Egyptians  said  that  a  ray  from  heaven  fell  upon  the  cow,  and  from 
that  she  brought  forth  Apis."  Apis  symbolizes  the  sun,  therefore  his 
signs:  upon  the  forehead  a  white  spot,  upon  his  back  a  figure  of  an 
eagle,  upon  his  tongue  a  beetle. 

"According  to  Philo,  the  serpent  is  the  most  spirited  of  all  animals; 
its  nature  is  that  of  fire,  the  rapidity  of  its  movements  is  great  and  this 
without  need  of  any  especial  limbs.  It  has  a  long  life  and  sheds  age, 
with  its  skin.  Therefore  it  was  inculcated  in  the  mysteries,  because  it  is 
immortal.  (Maehly:  "Die  Schlange  in  Mythologie  und  Kultus  der 
klassischen  Volker,"  1867,  p.  7.) 

*'"' For  example,  the  St.  John  of  Quinten  Matsys  (see  illustration); 
also  two  pictures  by  an  unknown  Strassburg  master  in  the  Gallery  at 
Strassburg. 

*'* "  And  the  wonaan — having  a  golden  cup  in  her  hand  full  of 
abominations  and  filthiness  of  her  fornication"  (Rev.  xvii:4).  The 
woman  is  "  drunken  with  the  blood  of  the  saints  and  with  the  blood  of 
the  martyrs  of  Jesus":  a  striking  image  of  the  terrible  mother  (here, 
cup  =  genitals).      In    the    Tibetan    myth    of    Bogda    Cesser    Khan    there 


pp.  341-427]    THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  55 1 

is  a  beetle  (treasure  attainable  with  difficulty),  which  the  demoniac 
old  woman  guards.  Cesser  says  to  her:  "Sister,  never  since  I  \yas 
born  have  you  shown  me  the  beetle  my  soul."  The  mother  libido 
is  also  the  soul.  It  is  significant  that  the  old  woman  desired  the  hero 
as  a  husband.     (Frobenius.) 

"'  This  is  also  the  significance  of  the  mysteries.  Their  purpose  is  to 
lead  the  useless,  regressive  incestuous  libido  over  the  bridges  of  &ym- 
bolism  into  rational  activity,  and  through  that  transform  the  obscure 
compulsion  of  the  libido  working  up  from  the  unconscious  into  social 
communion  and  higher  moral  endeavor. 

*°' An  excellent  example  of  this  is  the  description  of  the  orgies  of  the 
Russian  sectarian  by  Mereschkowski,  in  his  book,  "  Peter  the  Great  and 
Alexei."  In  the  cult  of  the  Asiatic  Goddesses  of  love  (Anaitis,  Mylitta, 
etc.),  prostitution  in  the  temple  was  an  organized  institution.  The 
orgiastic  cult  of  Anahita  (Anaitis)  has  been  preserved  in  modern  sects, 
with  the  Ali  Illahija,  the  so-called  "extinguishers  of  light";  with  the 
Yezeds  and  Dushikkurds,  who  celebrate  nocturnal  religious  orgies  which 
end  in  a  wild  sexual  debauch,  during  which  incestuous  unions  also  occur. 
(Spiegel:  "  Eran.  Altertumskunde,"  II,  p.  64.)  Further  examples  are 
to  be  found  in  the  valuable  work  of  Stoll  ("  Das  Sexualleben  in  der 
Volkerpsychologie,"  Leipzig  1908). 

^°*  Concerning  the  kiss  of  the  snake,  compare  Grimm,  II,  p.  809. 
By  this  means,  a  beautiful  woman  was  set  free.  The  sucking  refers  to 
the  maternal  significance  of  the  snake,  which  exists  along  with  the 
phallic.  It  is  a  coitus  act  on  the  presexual  stage.  Spielrein's  insane 
patient  {Jahrhuch,  III,  p.  344)  says  as  follows:  "Wine  is  the  blood  of 
Jesus. — The  water  must  be  blessed,  and  was  blessed  by  him.  The  one 
buried  alive  becomes  the  vineyard.  That  wine  becomes  blood — the 
water  is  mingled  with  'childishness'  because  God  says,  'become  like 
little  children.'  There  is  also  a  spermatic  water  which  can  be  drunken 
with  blood.  That  perhaps  is  the  water  of  Jesus."  Here  we  find  a 
commingling  of  all  the  various  meanings  of  the  way  to  win  immortality. 
Wiedeniann  ("Der  alte  Orient,"  II,  2,  p.  18;  cited  by  Dieterich:  Ibid., 
p.  loi)  asserts  that  it  is  an  Egyptian  idea  that  man  draws  in  the  milk 
of  immortality  by  suckling  the  breast  of  a  goddess.  (Compare  with  that 
the  myth  of  Hercules,  where  the  hero  attains  immortality  by  a  single 
draw  at  the  breast  of  Hera.) 

^*"  From  the  writings  of  the  sectarian  Anton  Unternahrer:  "  Ge- 
heimes  Reskript  der  bernischen  Regierung  an  die  Pfarr-  und  Statthalter- 
amter,"  1821.  I  owe  the  knowledge  of  this  fragment  to  Rev.  Dr.  O. 
Pfister. 

^"^  Nietzsche:  "  Zarathustra  ":  "And  I  also  give  this  parable  to  you: 
Not  a  few  who  wished  to  drive  out  the  devil  from  themselves,  by  that 
lead  themselves  into  the  slough." 

""  Compare  the  vision  of  Zosimos. 

"*  The  significance  of  the  communion  ritual  as  a  unio  mystica  with 
God  is  at  bottom  sexual  and  very  corporeal.  The  primitive  significance 
of  the  communion  is  that  of  a  Hierosgamos.  Therefore  in  the  fragment 
of  the  Attis  mysteries  handed  down  by  Firmicus  it  is  said  that  the  mystic 
eats  from  the  Tympanon,  drinks  from  the  Kymbalon,  and  he  confesses: 
vnb  Tov  naarov   vnidvov,  which  means  the   same   as:   "I   have   entered  the 


552  THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE    [pp.  341-427 

bridal  chamber."  Usener  (in  Dieterich:  Ibid.,  p.  126)  refers  to  a  series  of 
quotations  from  the  patristic  literature,  of  which  I  mention  merely  one 
sentence  from  the  speeches  of  Proclus  of  Constantinople:  v  Tratrrdf  h  ^ 
6  Xoyoc  evvfKfiEvaaTo  ttjv  aapKa  (The  bridal  chamber  in  which  the  Logos  has 
espoused  the  flesh).  The  church  is  also  to  some  extent  the  bridal  chamber, 
wnere  the  spirit  unites  with  the  flesh,  really  the  Cometerium.  Irenaeus 
mentions  some  more  of  the  initiatory  customs  of  certain  gnostic  sects, 
which  were  undoubtedly  nothing  but  spiritual  weddings.  (Compare 
Dieterich:  Ibid.,  p.  127  ff.)  In  the  Catholic  church,  even  yet,  a  Hieros- 
gamos  is  celebrated  on  the  installation  of  a  priest.  A  young  maiden  there 
represents  the  church  as  bride. 

*"*  Compare  also  the  phantasies  of  Felicien  Rops:  The  crucified 
Priapus. 

^^^  Compare    with    that    the    symbolism    in    Nietzsche's    poem:    "Why 
enticest  thou  thyself  into  the  paradise  of  the  old  serpent?" 
Ill  II  'pj^yg  Spake  Zarathustra." 

**'  Nietzsche  himself  must  have  shown  at  times  a  certain  predilection 
for  loathsome  animals.  Compare  C.  A.  Bernoulli:  "Franz  Oberbeck  und 
Friedrich  Nietzsche,"  Vol.  I,  p.  166. 

^^^  I  recall  Nietzsche's  dream,  which  is  cited  in  Part  I  of  this  book. 

"*  The  Germanic  myth  of  Dietrich  von  Bern,  who  had  fiery  breath, 
belongs  to  this  idea:  He  was  wounded  in  the  forehead  by  an  arrow,  a 
piece  of  which  remained  there  fixed;  from  this,  he  was  called  the  im- 
mortal. In  a  similar  manner,  half  of  Hrungnir's  wedge-shaped  stone 
fastened  itself  in  Thor's  head.     See  Grimm:  "Mythology,"  I,  p.  309. 

"°  "  Geschichte  der  Philosophic,"  Vol.  I,  p.   181. 

^^'  Sa  tapo  atapyata. 

^*'  The  Stoic  idea  of  the  creative  primal  warmth,  in  which  we  have 
already  recognized  the  libido  (Part  I,  Chap.  IV),  belongs  in  this  con- 
nection, also  the  birth  of  Mithra  from  a  stone,  which  resulted  solo  aestu 
libidinis   (through  the  heat  of  the  libido  only). 

"*  In  the  accurate  prose  translation  this  passage  reads:  "There  Kama 
developed  from  him  in  the  beginning"  (Deussen:  "  Gesch.  d.  Phil.," 
Vol.  I,  p.  123).  Kama  is  the  libido.  "The  sages  found  the  root  of  being 
in  the  non-being,  in  the  heart,  searching  with  introspection." 

***  "  Fame  and  Eternity." 

*"  Grimm:  "Mythology,"  III.  The  heroes  have  serpent's  eyes,  as  do 
the  kings:  ormr  i  auga.     Sigurdr  is  called  Ormr  1  Auga. 

*^'  Nietzsche's 

"  In  the  green  light, 
Happiness  still  plays  around  the  brown  abyss. 
His  voice  grows  hoarse, 
His  eye  flashes  verdigris!  " 

*"  From  "  The  Poverty  of  the  Richest." 
*'*  Nietzsche's   "  Fragments   of   Dionysus-Dithyrambs." 
"  Heavy  eyes, 
Which  seldom  love: 


pp.  341-427]    THE  DUAL  MOTHER  ROLE  553 

But  when  they  love,  it  flashes  out 

Like  a  gold  mine 

Where  a  dragon  guards  the  treasure  of  love." 

*'*  He  is  pregnant  with  the  sun. 

'^■^  Galatians  iii:  27  alludes  to  this  primitive  idea:  "For  as  many  of 
you  as  have  been  baptized  into  Christ  have  put  on  Christ." 

^"' Just  as  is  Mani  so  is  Marsyas  a  crucified  one.  (See  Robertson: 
"Evangelical  Myths,"  p.  66.)  Both  were  hung,  a  punishment  which  has 
an  unmistakable  symbolic  value,  because  the  suspension  ("to  suffer 
and  fear  in  the  torment  of  suspension  ")  is  the  symbol  of  an  unfulfilled 
wish.  (See  Freud:  "The  Interpretation  of  Dreams.")  Therefore  Christ, 
Odin,  Attis  hung  on  trees  (:=  mother).  The  Talmudic  Jesus  ben  Pandira 
(apparently  the  earliest  historic  Jesus)  suffered  a  similar  death,  on 
the  eve  of  a  Passover  festival  in  the  reign  of  Alexander  Jannaeus  (106-79 
B.C.).  This  Jesus  may  have  been  the  founder  of  the  "  Essenes,"  a  sect 
(see  Robertson:  "  Evang.  Myths,"  p.  123)  which  stood  in  a  certain  relation 
to  subsequent  Christianity.  The  Jesus  ben  Stada  identified  with  the  pre- 
ceding Jesus,  but  removed  into  the  second  Christian  century,  was  also 
hung.  Both  were  first  stoned,  a  punishment  which  was,  so  to  speak, 
a  bloodless  one  like  hanging.  The  Christian  church,  which  spills  no 
blood,  therefore  burned.  This  may  not  be  without  significance  for  a 
peculiar  ceremony  reported  from  Uganda:  "When  a  king  of  Uganda 
wished  to  live  forever,  he  went  to  a  place  in  Busiro,  where  a  feast  was 
given  by  the  chiefs.  At  the  feast  the  Mamba  Clan  was  especially  held 
in  honor,  and  during  the  festivities  a  member  of  this  clan  was  secretly 
chosen  by  his  fellows,  caught  hy  them,  and  beaten  to  death  with  their 
fists;  no  stick  or  other  weapon  might  be  used  by  the  men  appointed  to 
do  the  deed.  After  death,  the  victim's  body  was  flayed  and  the  skin 
made  into  a  special  whip,  etc.  After  the  ceremony  of  the  feast  in 
Busiro,  with  its  strange  sacrifice,  the  king  of  Uganda  was  supposed  to 
live  forever,  but  from  that  day  he  was  never  allowed  to  see  his  mother 
again.  (Quoted  from  Frazer:  "Golden  Bough,"  Part  IV,  p.  415.)  The 
sacrifice,  which  is  chosen  to  purchase  everlasting  life  for  another,  is  here 
given  over  to  a  bloodless  death  and  after  that  skinned.  That  this  sacri- 
fice has  an  absolutely  unmistakable  relation  to  the  mother — as  we 
already  know — is  corroborated  very  plainly  by  Frazer. 

**' Frazer:  "Adonis,  Attis,  Osiris,"  p.  242. 

""Frazer:  Ibid.,  p.  246. 

^^*  Frazer:  Ibid.,  p.  249. 

""Cited  by  Dieterich  in  "  Mithrasliturgie,"  p.  215. 

*'*  Another  attempt  at  solution  seems  to  be  the  Dioscuri  motive: 
The  sun  consists  of  two  brothers  similar  to  each  other,  the  one  mortal, 
the  other  immortal.  This  motive  is  found,  as  is  well  known,  in  the 
two  Agvins,  who,  however,  are  not  further  differentiated.  In  the 
Mithraic  doctrine,  Mithra  is  the  father,  Sol  the  son,  and  yet  both  are 
one  as  6  ^tyaq  Qeb^'YUioq  WSpaq.The  motive  of  twins  emerges,  not  infre- 
quently, in  dreams.  In  a  dream,  where  it  is  related  that  a  woman  had 
given  birth  to  twins,  the  dreamer  found,  instead  of  the  expected  children, 
a  box  and  a  bottle-like  object.  Here  the  twins  had  male  and  female 
significance.  This  observation  hints  at  a  possible  significance  of  the 
Dioscuri  as  the  sun  and  its  re-bearing  mother — daughter  (?). 


554  THE  SACRIFICE  [pp.  428-483 

^"  Among  the  daughters  of  the  desert. 

^^^  Zentralblatt  fur  Psychoanalyse,  Vol.  II,  p.  169. 

^'*  This  problem  has  frequently  been  employed  in  the  ancient  sun 
myths.  It  is  especially  striking  that  the  lion-killing  heroes,  Samson  and 
Hercules,  are  weaponless  in  the  combat.  The  lion  is  the  symbol  of  the 
most  intense  summer  heat,  astrologically  he  is  the  Domicillum  Solis. 
Steinthal  {Zeitschrift  fiir  Volkerpsychologie,  Vol.  II,  p.  133)  reasons 
about  this  in  a  most  interesting  manner,  which  I  quote  word  for  word: 

"  When  the  Sun-god  fights  against  the  summer  heat,  he  fights  against 
himself;  when  he  kills  it,  he  kills  himself.  Most  certainly!  The 
Phoenician,  Assyrian  and  Lydian  ascribes  self-destruction  to  his  sun-god, 
for  he  can  comprehend  the  lessening  of  the  sun's  heat  only  as  a  self- 
murder.  He  believed  that  the  sun  stood  at  its  highest  in  the  summer 
and  its  rays  scorched  with  destroying  heat:  thus  does  the  god  burn 
himself,  but  he  does  not  die,  only  rejuvenates  himself. — Also  Hercules 
burns  himself,  but  ascends  to  Olympus  in  the  flames.  This  is  the  con- 
tradiction in  the  pagan  gods.  They,  as  forces  of  nature,  are  helpful 
as  well  as  harmful  to  men.  In  order  to  do  good  and  to  redeem  they 
must  work  against  themselves.  The  opposition  is  dulled,  when  either 
of  the  two  sides  of  the  forces  of  nature  is  personified  in  an  especial 
god,  or  when  the  power  of  nature  is  conceived  of  as  a  divine  personage; 
however,  each  of  its  two  modes  of  action,  the  benevolent  and  the  injuri- 
ous, has  an  especial  symbol.  The  symbol  is  always  independent,  and 
finally  is  the  god  himself;  and  while  originally  the  god  worked  against 
himself,  destroyed  himself,  now  symbol  fights  against  symbol,  god 
against  god,  or  the  god  with  the  symbol." 

Certainly  the  god  fights  with  himself,  with  his  other  self,  which  we 
have  conceived  of  under  the  symbol  of  mother.  The  conflict  always 
appears  to  be  the  struggle  with  the  father  and  the  conquering  of  the 
mother. 

^'°  The  old  Etruscan  custom  of  covering  the  urn  of  ashes,  and  the  dead 
buried  in  the  earth,  with  the  shield,  is  something  more  than  mere  chance. 

^^°  Incest  motive. 

^"  Compare  the  idea  of  the  Phcenix  in  the  Apocalypse  of  Baruch, 
Part  I  of  this  book. 

CHAPTER  VIII 

*  The  kingdom  of  the  mother  is  the  kingdom  of  the  (unconscious) 
phantasy. 

^  Behind  nature  stands  the  mother,  in  continuation  of  our  earlier  dis- 
cussions and  in  the  foregoing  poem  of  Holderlin.  Here  the  mother 
hovers  before  the  poet's  mind  as  a  tree,  on  which  the  child  hangs  like  a 
blossom. 

'Once  he  called  the  "stars  his  brothers."  Here  I  must  call  to  mind, 
the  remarks  in  the  first  part  of  this  work,  especially  that  mystic  identifi- 
cation with  the  stars:  eyu  elfii  avfnr?Lavng  vfilv  aar^p  (I  am  a  star  who  wan- 
ders together  with  you).  The  separation  and  differentiation  from  the 
mother,  the  "  individuation  "  creates  that  transition  of  the  subjective  into 
the  objective,  that  foundation  of  consciousness.  Before  this,  man  was 
one  with  the  mother.  That  is  to  say,  with  the  world  as  a  whole.  At 
that  period  man   did   not  know   the   sun   as  brother.     This  occurred  for 


pp.  428-483]  THE  SACRIFICE  555 

the  first  time,  when  after  the  resulting  separation  and  placing  of  the 
object,  the  libido,  regressing  to  the  infantile,  perceived  in  that  first  state 
its  possibilities  and  the  suspicion  of  his  relationship  to  the  stars  forced 
itself  upon  him.  This  occurrence  appears  not  infrequently  in  the  intro- 
version psychoses.  A  young  peasant,  an  ordinary  laboring  man,  devel- 
oped an  introversion  psychosis  (Dementia  Praecox).  His  first  feelings 
of  illness  were  shown  by  a  special  connection  which  he  felt  with  the 
sun  and  the  stars.  The  stars  became  full  of  meaning  to  him,  and  the 
sun  suggested  ideas  to  him.  This  apparently  entirely  new  perception  of 
nature  is  met  with  very  often  in  this  disease.  Another  patient  began 
to  understand  the  language  of  birds,  which  brought  him  messages  from 
his  beloved    (mother).     Compare  Siegfried. 

*  The  spring  belongs  to  the  idea  as  a  whole. 

'  This  idea  expresses  the  divine-infantile  blessedness,  as  in  Hyperion's 
"  Song  of  Fate." 

"  You  wander  above  there  in  the  light 
Upon  soft  clouds,  blessed  genii! 
Shining  breezes  of  the  gods 
Stir  you  gently." 

'  This  portion  is  especially  noteworthy.  In  childhood  everything  was 
given  him,  and  man  is  disinclined  to  obtain  it  once  more  for  himself, 
because  it  is  won  only  through  "toil  and  compulsion":  even  love  costs 
trouble.  In  childhood  the  well  of  the  libido  gushed  forth  in  bubbling 
fulness.  In  later  life  it  involves  hard  work  to  even  keep  the  stream 
flowing  for  the  onward  striving  life,  because  with  increasing  age  the 
stream  has  a  growing  inclination  to  flow  back  to  its  source,  if  effectual 
mechanisms  are  not  created  to  hinder  this  backward  movement  or  at 
least  to  organize  it.  In  this  connection  belongs  the  generally  accepted 
idea,  that  love  is  absolutely  spontaneous;  only  the  infantile  type  of  love 
is  something  absolutely  spontaneous.  The  love  of  an  adult  man  allows 
itself  to  be  purposefully  directed.  Man  can  also  say  "  I  will  love."  The 
heights  of  culture  are  conditioned  by  the  capacity  for  displacement  of 
the  libido. 

''  Motive  of  immortality  in  the  fable  of  the  death  of  Empedocles. 
Horace:  Deus  immortalis  haberi — Dum  cupit  Empedocles  ardentem 
frigidus  Aetnam — Insiluit  (Empedocles  deliberately  threw  himself  into 
the  glowing  Aetna  because  he  wanted  to  be  believed  an  immortal  god). 

*  Compare  the  beautiful  passage  in  the  journey  to  Hades  of  Odysseus, 
where  the  hero  wishes  to  embrace  his  mother. 

"  But  I,  thrilled  by  inner  longing. 

Wanted  to  embrace  the  soul  of  my  departed  mother. 

Three  times  I  endeavored,  full  of  passionate  desire  for  the  embrace: 

Three  times  from  my  hands  she  escaped 

Like  nocturnal  shades  and  the  images  of  dreams, 

And  in  my  heart  sadness  grew  more  intense."  ("Odyss.,"  XI,  204.) 
The  underworld,  hell,  is  indeed  the  place  of  unfulfilled  longing.  The 
Tantalus  motive  is  found  through  all  of  hell. 

*  Spielrein's  patient  {Jahrbuch,  III,  p.  345)  speaks  in  connection  with 
the  significance  of  the  communion  of  "  the  water  mixed  with  childish- 
ness; spermatic  water,  blood  and  wine."  P.  368  she  says:  "The  souls 
fallen  into  the  water  are  saved  by  God,  they  fall  into  the  deep  abyss — 
The  souls  were  saved  by  the  son  of  God." 


556  THE  SACRIFICE  [pp.  428-483 

*°  The  (f>dpuaKov  a^avaalar,  the  drink  of  Soma,  the  Haoma  of  the  Persians, 
might  have  been  made  from  Ephedra  vulgaris.  Spiegel:  "  Eran.  Alter- 
tumslcunde,"  I,  p.  433. 

^' Like  the  heavenly  city  in  Hauptmann's  "Hannele": 
"  Salvation  is  a  wonderful  city, 
Where  peace  and  joy  never  end. 
Its  houses  are  marble,  its  roofs  are  gold, 
But  wine  flows  in  silver  fountains. 
Flowers  are  strewed  upon  the  white,  white  streets. 
Continually  from  the  towers  sound  the  wedding  bells. 
Green    as    May    are    the    battlements,    shining    with    the    light    of    early 

morning. 
Giddy  with  butterflies,  crowned  with  roses. 

There  below,  hand  in  hand. 

The  festive  people  wander  through  the  heavenly  land, 

The  wide,  wide  sea  is  filled  with  red,  red  wine, 

They  plunge  in  with  shining  bodies! 

They  plunge  into  the  foam  and  the  splendor, 

The  clear  purple  covers  them  entirely. 

And  they  exulting  arise  from  the  flood, 

Thus  they  are  washed  by  Jesus'  blood." 

^'Richter:  15,  17. 

*'Prellwitz:  "  Griech.  Etym.,"  s.  aK^nru. 

"  Of  the  father. 

*"  This  was  really  the  purpose  of  all  mysteries.  They  create  sym- 
bolisms of  death  and  rebirth  for  the  practical  application  and  education 
of  the  infantile  libido.  As  Frazer  ("The  Golden  Bough,"  I,  p.  442) 
points  out,  exotic  and  barbaric  peoples  have  in  their  initiatory  mysteries 
the  same  symbolism  of  death  and  resurrection,  just  as  Apuleius 
"  Metam.,"  XI,  23)  says  of  the  initiation  of  Lucius  into  the  Isis  mys- 
teries: "  Accessi  confinium  mortis  et  calcato  Proserpinae  limine  per  omnia 
vectus  elementa  remeavi "  (I  have  reached  the  confines  of  death  and 
trodden  the  threshold  of  Proserpina;  passing  through  all  the  elements,  I 
have  returned).  Lucius  died  figuratively  (ad  instar  voluntariae  mortis) 
and  was  born  anew  (renatus). 

^*  This  does  not  hinder  the  modern  neurasthenic  from  making  work 
a  means  of  repression  and  worrying  about  it. 

*' Compare  Genesis  xlix:i7:  "Dan  shall  be  a  serpent  by  the  way, 
an  adder  in  the  path,  that  biteth  the  horse  heels,  so  that  his  rider  shall 
fall  backward." 

^*  Compare  with  this  the  Egyptian  representation  of  the  Heaven  as 
woman  and  cow. 

^°  Freud:  "  Formulierungen  iiber  die  zwei  Prinzipien  des  psychischen 
Geschehens,"  1912  Jahrbuch,  p.  1  ff. 

*°  This  form  of  question  recalls  the  well-known  Indian  symbol  of  the 
world-bearing  animal:  an  elephant  standing  upon  a  tortoise.  The  ele- 
phant has  chiefly  masculine-phallic  significance  and  the  tortoise,  like 
every  shell  animal,  chiefly  feminine  significance. 


pp.  428-483]  THE  SACRIFICE  557 

"  Zentralblatt  fiir  Psychoanalyse,  Vol.  II,  p.  171. 

''The  neurotic  Don  Juan  is  no  evidence  to  the  contrary.  That  which 
the  "habitue"  understands  by  love  is  merely  an  infirmity  and  far  dif- 
ferent from  that  which  love  ir.eans! 

"Spiegel:  "  Eran.  Altertumskunde,"  11,  667. 

'*  Freud:  "  Eine  Kindheitserinrerurrr  c!°s  Leonardo  da  Vinci,"  p.  57: 
"The  almight}',  just  God  aud  be..cvolent  i:ari:rc  appear  to  us  as  a  great 
sublimation  of  father  and  mothrr,  ra'lier  tba  .  revivals  and  reproductions 
of  the  early  childish  ideas  of  the.n.  ?.c]'gio;;3jcss  leads  biologically  back 
to  the  long-continued  helplessness  and  i  ced  of  tlie  offspring  of  man,  who, 
when  later  he  has  recog.w/c  h  j  ica!  1  ■■  .cluiCis,  ani  v.-eakaess  against 
the  great  powers  of  life,  feels  h'.s  cohdi^ioa  sinrlar  to  that  of  childhood, 
and  seeks  to  disavow  this  iorlom  s.a  e  Ly  regiessive  renewal  of  the 
infantile  protective  pov/ers." 

"Nietzsche:  "  Frohliche  Wissenscha'^f."  Aphorism  157.  "  Mentiri — give 
heed! — he  muses:  immediately  he  \'  11  lia.c  a  lie  prepared.  This  is  a 
stage  of  culture,  upon  which  whole  peoples  have  stood.  One  should 
ponder  over  what  the  Romans  meant  by  jneatiri !  "  Actually  the  Indo- 
Germanic  root  mentis,  men,  is  the  same  for  mentiri,  memini  and  mens. 
See  Walde:  "  Lat.  Etym.,"  sub.  mei^dax,  memini  und  mens. 

"See  Freud:  Jahrbuch,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  60. 

"Bundehesh,  XV,  27.  The  bull  Sarsaok  was  sacrificed  at  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  world.  But  Sarsaok  was  the  originator  of  the  race  of  men: 
he  had  brought  nine  of  the  fifteen  human  races  upon  his  back  through 
the  sea  to  the  distant  points  of  the  compass.  The  primitive  bull  of 
Gayomart  has,  as  we  saw  above,  most  undoubtedly  female  and  maternal 
significance  on  account  of  his  fertility. 

"  If  for  Silberer  the  mythological  symbolism  is  a  process  of  cognition 
on  the  mythological  stage  {Jahrbuch,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  664),  then  there  exists, 
between  this  view  and  mine,  only  a  difference  of  standpoint,  which  deter- 
mines a  different  manner  of  expression. 

'*  This  series  of  representations  begins  with  the  totem  meal. 

'"Taurus  is  astrologically  the  Domicilium  Veneris. 

^*  There  comes  from  the  library  of  Asurbanipal  an  interesting  Sumeric- 
Assyrian   fragment    (Cuneiform   Inscr.,   I,   IV,  26,   6.     Quoted   by   Gress- 
mann:  "  Altorient.  Text,  und  Bild.,"  I,  p.  loi): 
"To  the  wise  man  he  said: 
A  lamb  is  the  substitute  for  a  man. 
He  gives  a  lamb  for  his  life. 
He  gives  the  heads  of  lambs  for  the  heads  of  men,"  etc. 

*' Compare  the  remarkable  account  in  Pausanias:  VI,  17,  9  ff.  "While 
sleeping,  the  sperma  of  Zeus  has  flowed  down  upon  the  earth;  in  time 
has  arisen  from  this  a  demon,  with  double  generative  organs;  that  of 
a  man,  and  that  of  a  woman.  They  gave  him  the  name  of  Agdistis. 
But  the  gods  changed  Agdistis  and  cut  off  the  male  organs.  Now  when 
the  almond  tree  which  sprang  forth  from  this  bore  ripe  fruit,  the 
daughter  of  the  spring,  Sangarios,  took  of  the  fruit.  When  she  placed 
it  in  her  bosom,  the  fruit  disappeared  at  once;  but  she  found  herself 
pregnant.     After  she  had  given  birth  to  the  child,  a  goat  acted  as  pro- 


558  THE  SACRIFICE  [pp.  428-483 

tector:  when  he  grew  up,  he  was  of  superhuman  beauty,  so  that  Agdistis 
fell  in  love  with  the  boy.  His  relatives  sent  the  full-grown  Attis  to 
Pessinus,  in  order  to  marry  the  king's  dauj^hter.  The  wedding  song 
was  beginning  when  Agdistis  appeared  and  in  delirium  Attis  castrated 
himself." 

'"Firmicus:  "  De  error,  prof,  rel.,"  XXVIII.  Quoted  by  Robertson: 
"  Evang.  Myths,"  p.   136,  and  Creuzer:  "  Symbolik,"  II,   332. 

'*  Pentheus,  as  a  hero  with  a  serpent  nature;  his  father  was  Echion, 
the  adder. 

'"  The  typical  sacrificial  death  in  the  Dionysus  cult. 

^''  In  the  festival  processions  they  wore  women's  clothes. 

"  In  Bith3'nia  Attis  was  called  TrdTrof  (papa,  pope)  and  Cybele,  Ma. 
In  the  early  Asiatic  religions  of  this  mother-goddess,  there  existed  fish 
worship  and  prohibition  against  fish  as  food  for  the  priests.  In  the 
Christian  religion,  it  is  noteworthy  that  the  son  of  Atargatis,  identified 
with  Astarte,  Cybele,  etc.,  is  called 'lA'^i'f  (Creuzer:  "Symbolik,"  II,  60). 
Therefore,  the  anagram  of  the  name  of  Christ  =  IH20Y2  XPI2T02 
GEOYTIOS  2S2THP  =  IXGYS. 

''Spiegel:  "  Eran.  Altertumskunde,"  2,  76. 

''A.  Nagel:  "  Der  chinesische  Kiichengott  Tsau-kyun."  Archiv  fiir 
Religionswissenschaft,  XI,  23  ff. 

'"' In  Spiegel's  "  Parsigrammatik,"  pp.  135,  166. 

*'  Porphyrins  says :  wf  ««'  0 ravpog  dT/fitovpyd^  gjv  oMiOpaq  koX  yeviaeug  deandrtjg 
(As  the  bull  is  the  Creator,  Mithra  is  the  Lord  of  birth). 

*^  The  death  of  the  bull  is  voluntary  and  involuntary.  When  Mithra 
strangles  the  bull,  a  scorpion  bites  the  bull  in  the  testicles  (autumn 
equinox). 

*'Benndorf:  "Bildwerke' des  Lateran  Museum,"  No.  547. 

**"Textes  et  Monuments,"  I,  182. 

*"  In  another  place  Cumont  speaks  of  "  the  sorrowful  and  almost 
morbid  grace  of  the  features  of  the  hero." 

^°  Infantilism  is  merely  the  result  of  the  much  deeper  state  of  intro- 
version of  the  Christian  in  contrast  to  the  other  religions. 

■"  The  libido  nature  of  the  sacrificed  is  unquestionable.  In  Persia,  a 
ram  helped  the  first  people  to  the  first  sin,  cohabitation:  it  is  also  the 
first  animal  which  they  sacrificed  (Spiegel:  "Eran.  Altertumskunde," 
Vol.  I,  p.  511).  The  ram  is  the  same  as  the  paradisical  serpent,  which 
was  Christ  according  to  the  Manichean  version.  The  ancient  Meliton 
of  Sardes  taugh;  that  Christ  was  a  lamb,  similar  to  the  ram  in  the 
bush,  which  Abraham  sacrificed  in  place  of  his  son.  Here  the  bush  is 
analogous  to  the  cross   (Fragment  V,  quoted  by  Robertson:'  Ibid). 

*' See  above.  "Blood  bridegroom  of  the  mother."  From  Joshua  v:2 
we  learn  that  Joshua  again  instituted  the  circumcision  and  redemption 
of  the  firstborn:  "With  this  he  must  have  substituted  for  the  sacrifice 
of  children,  which  earlier  it  was  the  custom  to  offer  up  to  Jehovah,  the 
sacrifice  of  the  male  foreskin"   (Drews:  "  Christusmythe,"  I,  p.  47). 


pp.  428-483]  THE  SACRIFICE  559 

*' See  Cumont:  Ibid.,  p.  loo. 

•"  The  Zodiacal  sign  of  the  sun's  greatest  heat. 

*  This  solution  apparently  concerns  only  the  dogmatic  symbolism.  I 
merely  intimate  that  this  sacrificial  death  was  related  to  a  festival  of 
vegetation  or  of  Spring,  from  which  the  religious  legend  originated. 
The  folk  customs  contain  in  variations  these  same  fundamental  thoughts. 
(Compare  with  that  Drews:  "  Christusmythe,"  I,  p.  37). 

*^  A  similiar  sacrificial  death  is  that  of  Prometheus.  He  was  chained 
to  a  rock.  In  another  version  his  chains  were  drawn  through  a  pillar, 
which  hints  at  the  enchainment  to  a  tree.  That  punishment  was  his 
which  Christ  took  upon  himself  willingly.  The  fate  of  Prometheus 
therefore  recalls  the  misfortune  of  Theseus  and  Perithoos,  who  remain 
bound  to  the  rock,  the  chthonic  mother.  According  to  Athenaeus,  Jupiter 
commanded  Prometheus,  after  he  had  freed  him,  to  wear  a  willow 
crown  and  an  iron  ring,  by  which  his  lack  of  freedom  and  slavery  was 
symbolically  represented.  (Phoroneus,  who  in  Argos  was  worshipped  as 
the  bringer  of  fire,  was  the  son  of  Melia,  the  ash,  therefore  tree-en- 
chained.) Robertson  compares  the  crown  of  Prometheus  to  the  crown  of 
thorns  of  Christ.  The  devout  carry  crowns  in  honor  of  Prometheus,  in 
order  to  represent  the  captivity  ("Evangelical  Myths,"  p.  126).  In  this 
connection,  therefore,  the  crown  means  the  same  as  the  betrothal  ring. 
These  are  the  requisites  of  the  old  Hierosgamos  with  the  mother;  the 
crown  of  thorns  (which  is  of  Egyptian  derivation  according  to 
Athenaeus)   has  the  significance  of  the  painful  ascetic  betrothal. 

^'  The  spear  wound  given  by  Longinus  to  Christ  is  the  substitute  for 
the  dagger  thrust  in  the  Mithraic  bull  sacrifice:  "The  jagged  tooth  of 
the  brazen  wedge  "  was  driven  through  the  breast  of  the  enchained  and 
sacrificed  Prometheus    (Aeschylus:  "Prometheus"). 

*■*  Mention  must  also  be  made  of  the  fact  that  North  German  mythology 
was  acquainted  with  similar  thoughts  regarding  the  fruitfulness  of  the 
sacrificial  death  on  the  mother:  Through  hanging  on  the  tree  of  life, 
Odin  obtained  knowledge  of  the  Runes  and  the  inspiring,  intoxicating 
drink  which  invested  him  with  immortality. 

"''  I  have  refrained  in  the  course  of  this  merely  orienting  investigating 
from  referring  to  the  countless  possibilities  of  relationship  between  dream 
symbolism  and  the  material  disclosed  in  these  connections.  That  is  a 
matter  of  a  special  investigation.  But  I  cannot  forbear  mentioning  here 
a  simple  dream,  the  first  which  a  youthful  patient  brought  to  me  in  the 
beginning  of  her  analysis.  "  She  stands  between  high  walls  of  snow 
upon  a  railroad  track  with  her  small  brother.  A  train  comes,  she  runs 
before  it  in  deadly  fear  and  leaves  her  brother  behind  upon  the  track. 
She  sees  him  run  over,  but  after  the  train  has  passed,  the  little  fellow 
stands  up  again  uninjured."  The  meaning  of  the  dream  is  clear:  the 
inevitable  approach  of  the  "  Impulse."  The  leaving  behind  of  the  little 
brother  is  the  repressed  willingness  to  accept  her  destiny.  The  accept- 
ance is  symbolized  by  the  sacrifice  of  the  little  brother  (the  infantile 
personality)  whose  apparently  certain  death  becomes,  however,  a  resur- 
rection. Another  patient  makes  use  of  classical  forms:  she  dreamed  of 
a  mighty  eagle,  which  is  wounded  in  beak  and  neck  by  an  arrow.  If 
we  go  into  the  actual  transference  phantasy  (eagle  =  physician,  arrow  := 
erotic  wish  of  the  patient),  then  the  material  concerning  the  eagle  (winged 
lion  of  St.  Mark,  the  past  splendor  of  Venice;  beak  —  remembrances  of 


56o  THE  SACRIFICE  [pp.  428-483 

certain  perverse  actions  of  childhood)  leads  us  to  understand  the  eagle 
as  a  composition  of  infantile  memories,  which  in  part  are  grouped 
around  the  father.  The  eagle,  therefore,  is  an  infantile  hero  who  is 
wounded  in  a  characteristic  manner  on  the  phallic  point  (beak).  The 
dream  also  says:  I  renounce  the  infantile  wish,  I  sacrifice  my  infantile 
personality  (which  is  synonymous  with:  I  paralyze  it,  castrate  the  father 
or  the  physician).  In  the  Mithra  mysteries,  in  the  introversion  the 
mystic  himself  becomes  aerSg,  the  eagle,  this  being  the  highest  degree  of 
initiation.  The  identification  with  the  unconscious  libido  animal  goes 
very  far  in  this  cult,  as  Augustine  relates:  "  alii  autem  sicut  aves  alas  per- 
cutiunt  vocem  coracis  imitantes,  alii  vero  leonum  more  f remunt "  (Some 
move  the  arms  like  birds  the  wings,  imitating  the  voice  of  the  raven, 
some  groan  like  lions). 

■^^  Miss  Miller's  snake  is  green.  The  snake  of  my  patient  is  also  green. 
In  "Psychology  of  Dementia  Praecox,"  p.  i6i,  she  says:  "Then  a 
little  green  snake  came  into  my  mouth;  It  had  the  finest,  loveliest  sense, 
as  if  it  had  human  understanding;  it  wanted  to  say  something  to  me, 
almost  as  if  It  had  wished  to  kiss  me."  Spielrein's  patient  says  of  the 
snake:  "It  is  an  animal  of  God,  which  has  such  wonderful  colors,  green, 
blue  and  white.  The  rattlesnake  is  green;  it  Is  very  dangerous.  The 
snake  can  have  a  human  mind.  It  can  have  God's  judgment;  it  is  a 
friend  of  children.  It  will  save  those  children  who  are  necessary  for 
the  preservation  of  human  life"  {Jahrbuch,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  366).  Here  the 
phallic  meaning  is  unmistakable.  The  snake  as  the  transformed  prince 
in  the  fairy  tale  has  the  same  meaning.  See  Riklin:  "Wish  Fulfilment 
and  Symbolism  in  Fairy  Tales." 

"'  A  patient  had  the  phantasy  that  she  was  a  serpent  which  coiled 
around  the  mother  and  finally  crept  into  her. 

"*  The  serpent  of  Epidaurus  is,  in  contrast,  endowed  with  healing  power. 
Similia  similibus. 

'"This  Bleuler  has  designated  as  Ambivalence  or  ambitendency. 
Stekel  as  "Bl-polarity  of  all  psychic  phenomena"  ("  Sprache  des 
Traumes,"  p.  535). 

*"  I  am  indebted  for  permission  to  publish  a  picture  of  this  statuette 
to  the  kindness  of  the  director  of  the  Veronese  collection  of  antiques. 

**  The  "  Deluge  "  is  of  one  nature  with  the  serpent.  In  the  Woluspa 
it  is  said  that  the  flood  is  produced  when  the  Midgard  serpent  rises  up 
for  universal  destruction.  He  is  called  "  Jormungandr,"  which  means, 
literally,  "the  all-pervading  wolf."  The  destroying  Fenris  wolf  has  also 
a  connection  with  the  sea.  Fen  is  found  in  Fensallr  (Meersale),  the 
dwelling  of  Frigg,  and  originally  meant  sea  (Frobenlus:  Ibid.,  p.  179). 
In  the  fairy  stories  of  Red  Riding  Hood,  a  wolf  is  substituted  In  place 
of  a  serpent  or  fish. 

'^  Compare  the  longing  of  Holderlin  expressed  in  his  poem  "  Empedo- 
cles."  Also  the  journey  to  hell  of  Zarathustra  through  the  crater  of  the 
volcano.  Death  Is  the  entrance  into  the  mother,  therefore  the  Egyptian 
king,  Mykerinos,  burled  his  daughter  in  a  gilded  wooden  cow.  That 
was  the  guarantee  of  rebirth.  The  cow  stood  in  a  state  apartment  and 
sacrifices  were  brought  to  it.  In  another  apartment  near  the  cow  were 
placed  the  images  of  the  concubines  of  Mykerinos  (Herodotus,  II,  p.  129  f). 

•'  Kluge :  "  Deutsche  Etymologic." 


INDEX 


Abegg,  182 

Abelard,  16 

Abraham,  6,  29,  143,  151,  162 

Activity,  displaced  rhythmic,  160 

Adaptation  to  environment,  14 

Agni,  164,  185 

Agriculture,   173 

Aitareyopanishad,  178 

Ambitendency,   194 

Amenhotep   IV,   io6 

Analogy,  importance  of,  156 

Analysis  of   dreams,   9 

Antiquity,  brutality  of,  258 

Anxiety,  representations  of,  292 

Arnold,  Sir  Edwin,  273,  355 

Art,  instinct  of,   145 
first,    177 

Asceticism,  91 
^.,     Asterius,  Bishop,  375 
SjS      Augustine,  90,   114 
»      Autismus,  152 

Autoerotism,  176 

Autonomy,  moral,  262 

Avenarius,  R.,  146 

Aztec,  205 

Baldwin,  Mark,  17 

Baptism,  357 

Bergerac,      Cyrano      de,      43,      60, 

119 
Bergson,  Henri,  314 
Bertschinger,   203 
Bhagavid-Gita,  195 
Bingen,  Hildegarde  von,   loi 
Bleuler,  Prof.,  152,  194 
Book    of    the     Dead,"     "  Egyptian, 

278,  289,   314 
Boring,  act  of,  157,  177 
Bousset,  402 
Brihadaranyaka-Upanishad,        174, 

178,   313.  466 
Bruno,   Giordano,  25 
Buddha,  273,  323,  344,  355 
Bundehesh,  277 
Burckhardt,  Jacob,  40,  83 
,  Byron's  "Heaven   and  Earth,"   117 


Cajsar,  Julius,   317 
Cannegieter,  281 
Causation,  law  of,   59 
Cave  worship,   375 
Chidher,  216,  219 
Child,  development  of,  461 
Childhood,   valuations,  211 
Children,   analysis  of,  207 

regression   in,  462 
Christ,   30,   90,   135,    185,   217,   219, 
225,    245,    252,    278,    344,    357, 
372 

and  Antichrist,  403 

death  and  resurrection,  449 

sacrifice  of,  475 
Christianity,  78,  80,  85,  255 
Chrysostomus,  John,  113 
Cicero,   136 

City,  mother  symbolism  of,  234,  241 
Cohabitation,  continuous,  236,  298 
Coitus  play,  167 

wish,  meaning  of,  339 
Communion  cup,  410 
Complex,  37 

law  of  return,  56,  67 

mass,  43 

mother,  208 

nuclear,  195 

of  representation,  70,  76,  95 
Compulsion,  unconscious,  454 
Condensation,  6 
Conflict,  internal,  196,  328 
Consciousness,  birth  of,  361 
Creation,  by  means  of  thought,  58, 
62 

ideal,  64 

from  introversion,  416,  456 

from  mother,   286,   371 

through   sacrifice,  466 
Creuzer,  268 
Cross,  264,  278 

meaning  of,  296 
Cult,  Father-Son,  166 

Earth,    173 
Cumont,    Franz,   83,   221,   225,  450, 
473 
561 


562 


INDEX 


Cyrano   dc   Bergerac,   43,    60,    119, 
317 

Dactyli,  132 

Death,  fear  of,  304,  434 

phantasies,   117 

voluntary,  423 

wish  for,  320,  419 
Dementia  prascox,  141,  159,  461 
Destiny  of  man,  390,  427 
Deussen,  415,  466 
Dieterich,   376,  450 
Dismemberment,  motive  of,  267 
Displaced   rhythmic  activity,   160 
Domestication  of  man,  267,  304 
Dragon,  psychologic  meaning,  402, 

410 
Dream,  analysis,  9 

interpretation  of,  8 

Nietzsche,  28 

regression,  26 

sexual  assault,  10 

sexual  language  of,  433 

source  of,  9 

symbolism,   8,  12,  233  ~ 
Drews,   147 
Drexler,  275 

Eleusinian  mysteries,  373 
Emmerich,  Katherine,  322 
Erman,   106 
Erotic  fate,  117 

impression,  54,  67 
Eusebius  of  Alexandria,  114 
Evolution,  144 

Fairy  tales,  interpretation  of,  281 
Family,  separation  from,  344 
Fasting,  369 
Father,  62,  98,  293 

Imago,  55 

transference,  71 
Faust,    68,    88,    130,    181,   231,   245, 

250,  283,  305,  349  _ 
Fear,  as  forbidden  desire,  389 
Ferenczi,  47,  146 
Ferrero,  Guglielmo,  34 
Finger  sucking,  177 
Firdusi,  315 
Fire,  onanistic   phase  of,   174 

preparations  of,  163,  165,  172 

sexual  significance,  167,  172 
Firmicus,  379,  419 
Flournoy,  37 
France,  Anatole,  15,  37 


Francis  of  Assisi,  97 

Frazer     ("Golden    Bough"),    367, 

478 
Freud,  Sigmund,  12,  26,  29,  35,  37, 
67.    71.    73,    81,    133,    139,    151, 
189,  232,  281,  367,  421,  459 
interpretation  of  the  dream,  3 
"  Leonardo  da  Vinci,"  7 
source  of  the  dream,  9 
Frobenius,  237,  275,  280.  436 

Galileo,  146 

Gilgamesh,  365 

God,  as  creator  and  destroyer,  70 

as  sun,  127 

"  becoming   one   with,"   96 

crucified,  295 

fertilizing,  348 

love  of,  200 

of  creation,  69,  394 

vs.  erotic,  94 
Goethe,  417 
Gunkel,  286 

Hand,  erotic  use  of,  176 

symbolism  of,  206 
Hartmann,  198 
Hauptmann,  Gerhart,  330 
Hecate,  mysteries  of,  403 
Heine,  353 
Helios,  96,  no,  221 
Herd  instinct,  201 
Hero,  32,  191,  200,  379 

as  wanderer,  231 

betrayal  of,  38 

birth  of,  356 

psychologic  meaning,  135 

sacrifice  of,  452 

teleological  meaning,  347 
Herodotus,  290 
Herzog,  408 
Hesiod,  147 

Hiawatha,  song  of,  346 
Hierosgamos,  274,  376 
Holderlin,   182,  435,  436,  437,  440, 

442,  443,  444,  445,  448,  452 
Homosexuality,   34 
Honegger,  io8,  154 
Humboldt,  349 
Hypnagogic  vision,  197 

Idea,  independence  of,  84 
Iliad,  274 
Imago,  Father,  55 
Immortality,  227,  427 


INDEX 


563 


cest  barrier,  72,  100,  266,  458,  461 

phantasy,  3,  63,  404 

problem,   171,   195,  230,  250,  289, 

364,  454,  463 
cestuous  component,  172 
dependence,  battle  for,  344 
fantilism,  319,  431,  479 
•nan,  184,  236 
Projection,  146 
roversion,    37,    50,    98,    193,    201, 

329,.  367,  415 
lysterical,   151 
trilled,  336 
s,  96,  264 

;hns,  311 

nes,  William,  21 

let,  Pierre,  142 

isen,  225 

V,  Wandering,  215,  225 

I,  Book  of,  58,  60,  68,  326 

II,  17 

1,  Karl,   360 
es,  6 

thopanishad,  130 

jler,  25 

ige,  409 

"an,  216 

m,  Adalbert,  162 

Ipe,  21 

5tner,  281 

(  rd,  229 

lia,  280 

guage,  15 

s.  Speech,  16 

ends,  Judas,  37 

clos,  Ninon  de,  4 

do,   20,   47,   67,    71,    78,   94,   96, 

101,  120,  128,  157,  193,  228,  249 
>  hero,  417 
jfinition  of,  135 
;scriptive  conception,   144 
;sexualized,  149 
jnetic  conception,  144 

opposition,  292,  308,  329 

resistance,  422 
troverting,  415 
aeration  of,  420 
other,  289,  469,  474 
pressed  objects  of,  203 
ansference  of, -368 
insformation  of,  171 
ntiousness,  258 


Life,  fear  of,  335 

natural  conception  of,   343 
Lilith,  279 
Logos,  63 
Lombroso,  212 

Longfellow's  "Hiawatha,"  346 
Lord's  Supper,  372 
Love,  193 

infantile,  431 
Lucius,  io6 

Macrobius,  226,   314 

Maeder,  6 

Maeterlinck,  64 

Magdeburg,    Mechthild    von,    190, 

314 
Manilius,  182 
Mary,  283,  302 
Matthew,  Gospel  of,  92 
Maurice,  297 

Mauthner,  Franz,  19  y 

Maya,  283 
Mayer,  Robert,  138 
Mead,  109 
Meliton,  113 
Mereschkowski,  403 
'Messiah,  79 
Miller,  Miss  Frank,  41 
Milton,  52 
Mind,  archaic  tendencies,  35 

infantile,  36 
Mithra,     104,     no,    217,    221,    245, 

278,  293,  372,  450,  471 
Mithracisra,  78,  82,  85,  89,  96,  loi, 

108,  221,  225,  269,  314 
Moral  autonomy,  262 
Mother,  98,  230,  241,  283 

heavens  as,  301,  456 

imago,  250,  303,  319 

libido,  469,  474 

longing  for,  335,  371,  428 

love,  338 

of  humanity,  201 

terrible,    196,   202,   243,   267,   280, 
364,  405 

transference,  71 

twofold,  356,  387,  428 

wisdom  of,  452    ^ 
Motive  of  dismemberment,  267 

embracing  and  entwining,  272 
Morike,  11,  354 
Mouth,  erotic  importance  of,  176'"^ 

as  instrument  of  speech,  176 
Miiller,  295 
Music,  origin  of,  165 


564 


INDEX 


Mysticism,  101 
Mythology,  24,  240 

Hindoo,  128 
Myths,  as  dream  images,  29  ksi 

of  rebirth,  272 

religious,  262 

Nakedness,  cult  of,  412  <«« 
t  Naming,  importance  of,  208 
vNarcissus  state,  337 
Neuroses,  hysteria   and  compulsion, 

142 
Nietzsche,   16,  23,  28,  72,   102,  104, 
195,    327,    328,    337.    345.    414. 
417,  418,  420,  423,  434.  447 
on  dreams,  28 
Nodfyr,  166 

Oedipus,  3,  202 
Oegger,  Abbi,  37 
Onanism,  158,   175,  186 
Osiris,  264,  436 
Ovid,   325,   373,  469 

"Paradise  Lost,"  52 
Paranoia,  140 
Paranoidian  mechanism,  73 
Pausanias,  274 
Persecution,  fear  of,   332 
Personality,   dissociated,   37 
Peter,  221,  222 
Pfister,  6,  56 
Phallic,  cult,   33 

symbolism,  228,  248,  310 
Phallus,  105,  132 

negative,  334 

Sun,  108  »=«, 

Phantasy,  how  created,  31 

infantile,  462 

onanistic,  175 

sexual,  140 

source  of,  32,  460 

thinking,  22 
Philo  of  Alexandria,  113,  315 
Pick,  37 
Pindar,  325 
Plato,  147,  388 

Symposium,  34,  298 
Plotinus,  147 
Plutarch,  311,  375,  436 
Poe,  66 

Polytheism,  106 
Pope,  Roman,  200 
Preiswerk,  Samuel,  378 
Presexual  stage,  161,  171,  369 


Primitive,  reduction  to,  259 
"Procreation,  self,  358 

Projection,  73 

Prometheus,  162 
'Psychic  energy,  142 

Psychoanalysis,  75,  421 
object  of,  479 

Psychoanalytic  thinking,  257 

Psychology,  unconscious,   197 

Psychopathology,  50 

Ramayana,  239 
Rank,  6,  12,  29,  356 
Raven,"  "The,  66 
Reality,  adaptation  to,  461 

corrective  of,  146,  261 

function  of,  144,  150,  416 

principle  of,  146 
Rebirth,  240,  251,  272,  351 

battle  for,  364 
Regression,  26,  27,  172,  173 

to  the  mother,  369 
Religion,  benefits  of,  99 

and  morality,  85 

as  a  pose,  82,  260 

sexuality,  78 

source  of,  474 

vs.  orgies,  412 
Renan,  127 
Renunciation,  444 

Repression,  6,  67,  73,  150,  161,  342 
Resistance,  196 
Resistance    to    primitive    sexuality, 

156 
Revelation,  iii,  244  1 

Rhythm,  sexual,  165  \ 

Rigveda,    165,    247,    367,    393,   41^, 
416,  456,  465  ^ 

Riklin,  6,  29,  281 
Robertson,  378 
Rochefoucauld,  La,  195 
Rodhe,  376,  407 
Roscher,  326 
Rose,  symbolism  of,  436 
Rostand,  43 
Rudra,  128 

Sacrifice,    287,    294,    391,    452,    465, 
478 

Christian  vs.  Mithraic,  478 

of  bull,  473 

retrogressive  longing,  453,  465 
Sainthood,  difficulty  of,  322 
Schmid,  188 
Scholasticism,  22 


INDEX 


565 


Schopennauer,    16,    136,    146,    198, 

416,  467,  480 
Science,  23,  84 

vs.  Mythology,  24 
Self-consciousness,  creation  of,  303 
Self-control,  73 
Seneca,  78,  83,  85,  96 
Sentimentality,  474 
Serpent,  292 
Sexual  assault  dream,  10 

impulse,  derivatives  of,  144,  149 

problem,  treatment  of,  454 
Sexuality,  and  nutrition,  161 

and  religion,   78 

cult  of,  256 

importance  of,  342 

resistance  to  primitive,  156,  170 
Shakespeare,  317 
"  Shiestashvataropanishad,"    128 
"  Siegfried,"  Wagner's,  391 
Silberer,  6,  234 
Snake,  phallic  meaning  of,  no,  413 

as  symbol  of  death,  408 
Sodomy,  34 
Soma,  185 

Somnambulism,  intentional,  192 
Sophocles,  332 
Soul,  conception  of,  299 
Speech,  14 

origin  of,  178 
Sphinx,  202 
Spielrein,  154,  449 
St.  Augustine,  82 
Stage,  presexual,  161,  171,  369 
Steinthal,    156 
Stekel,  12 

Subject  vs.  object,  360 
Sublimation,  64,  150,  254 
Suckling,  act  of,  160 
Sun,  95,  217,  223,  390,  427 . 

as  God,  99,  127 

energy,  128 

hero,  112,  115,  191,  231 

night  journey  of,  237 

phallus,  108 

worship,  114 
Surrogates,  archaic,  154 
Symbolism,   Christian,   115  — 
Christian  vs.  Mithraic,  478 

of  arrow,  321,  366 
"  cit}',  234,  241 
"  crowd,  233 
"  dreams,   8,   12 
"  eating,  372 
"  everyday  thought,  13 


Symbolism  of  eyes,  301 

of  fish,  223 

"  forest,   307 

"  horse,   308 

"  libido,    105 

"  light,    112 

"  moon,   352 

"  mother,   241,  278 

"  mystery,   233 

"  serpent,   333,  414,  417,  479 

"  sun,    390 

"  sword,  393 

"  trees,  246,  264,  385 

phallic,  33,  228,  248 
Symbols,  use  of,  249,  262,  400 
Symean,  loi 

Tertullian,  114 
Theatre,  43 
Thinking,  13 

act  of,  459 

archaic,  28 

directed  or  logical,  14,  36 

dream,  22 

intensive,   13 

limitations  of,  19 

of  children,  27 

origin  of,  465 

phantastic,  22,  31,  36 

psychoanalytic,  257 
Time,  symbol  of,  313 
Transference,  75,  76,  171,  201 

real,  77,  78,  84 

to  nature,  82 
Transformation,  155 
Treading,  symbolic  meaning  of,  349 
Treasure,    difficult    to    attain,    186, 
365 

guardian  of,  293,  408 
Tree  of  Death,  278 
Tree  of  Life,  246 
Trinity,  147,  225 

Unconscious,  197,  201 
Upanishad,  131,  247,  466 

Verlaine,  Paul,  483 
Vinci,  Leonardo  da,  7,  403 
Virgil,   90 
Virgin  Mother,  63 
Vollers,  221 

Wagner's  "  Siegfried,"   391 

Waitz,  353 

Water,  symbolism  of,  244,  384,  388 


566  INDEX 

Watschandies,  167  Work  as  a  duty,  455 

Weber,  165  World  as  mother,  456 

Will,  conception  of,  146  Wundt,  17 

duality  of,  194 

original  division  of,  171  Zarathustra,  423 

Wind  as  creator,  108,  354  Zend  Avesta,  464 

Wirth,  115  Zosimos   vision,  416 

Woman,  misunderstood,  342  Zockler,  278,  296 


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